Skin
by onyxed
Summary: Starts on episode aired 3-12-2010 Ethan grabs Kristina at HS and then Keifer attacks her and deviates into what I think would happen. Ethan/Kristina centered. Deals with rape non-graphic and the fall out of what comes next.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: **WARNING!!!! **This fic does deal with rape. I'm not very comfortable writing about it, so it's really not graphic at all. This is my first attempt at a GH fic, and I was so inspired by the dynamic of Kristina and Ethan that I wanted to write this. They will eventually become a couple in this fic and I do plan to deviate from the GH storyline as of the March 12th, 2010 episode. It ends on a cliffhanger in which Keifer is about to attack Kristina after she ditched him to try and snag Ethan at the Haunted Star. He grabs her and she kind of snaps before leaving.

I don't really like the actress who plays Kristina, so the description of her within this fic may vary from what the actress actually looks like. Thanks and hope you enjoy!

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There's the crack of his hand across her face. A split inside her cheek and rattling of her teeth. She's shocked. Why is she always shocked? It's not like this is the first time. She looks up and he heart almost freezes in her chest. All the times before, she could see his remorse ready to come out and cradle her.

But his eyes are dark and he is shaking with a furious rage that terrifies her. It's not like on television. Where the girl is frozen in shock, seemingly numb and outside her own body. Kristina can feel everything. The sting in her cheek, the aching of her jaw, the incredible fear that wraps its claws around her throat. Silencing her.

She crawls away, a vain attempt to escape. He follows her, almost without effort. She's waiting. For what? For him to strike again. For some valiant knight to ride in on his white horse and save her. For her mind to wake, realizing it's only been a dream.

Only one of them comes true, and it's the worst of outcomes.

Keifer reaches down, grabbing her by her hair he drags her away from the table. She feels strands being pulled from her scalp as he does so, and then the pain of a cracked rib as he throws her against the coffee table. Her hairs falls from the updo that took her an hour to get just right, falling in a curtain of curls around her battered face. She tries to scream, and it finally comes. She keeps screaming, hoping someone will hear. For a moment she wonders if her mother ever considered the safety a city can have instead of a home in the wilderness.

No one hears her.

He slaps her again, crowing profanities at her as he continues his onslaught. Suddenly he's ripping her dress and he panic starts anew, realizing what he's planning. She's kicking and scratching at him, she can feel his skin tear under her nails. He doesn't seem to notice, so intent on his purpose.

She hears screaming, almost distantly and he heart jumps. Will she be saved? A hand wraps around her throat and her heart falls, realizing it was she who was screaming.

He takes her there, on her mothers living room floor. She wishes she could black out, maybe she'll get lucky and he won't leave her alive she thinks. But no, it's much worse. When he's done he kisses her tears and tells her he loves her. He leaves like nothing happened.

Going so far as to switch off the lights as he leaves, leaving her in the shadows of night.

The bile rises in her throat, she rolls onto her stomach releasing the contents of her stomach onto the expensive rug. She doesn't know where her clothes are, she doesn't even think to reach for the phone that is only a few feet away. She only feels the broken pieces of her body as she lies naked on the floor. She can only sob, her throat sore from Keifers grip and the screams that no one heard.

Hours pass like seconds. She knows she should get up, clean up before her mother gets home... Her mother... and Molly. She feels sick again... How can she face them? Will she tell anyone...

She doesn't get to answer her own questions, she finally blacks out. And it's a sweet reprieve...

He watches Sam leave the casino in a flurry of fitted clothes and dark hair. She's beautiful and strong, he understands why Jason's so in love with her. It's a passing thought, not something dwells on. Just a simple fact, like rain comes from cloud or the fact that his father's a con artist.

No, he doesn't dwell on that.

Sam may have left but her words linger around him like cigar smoke, the kind that's stagnant and doesn't rise. _Stay away from her..._

Ethan's always prided himself on being a gentleman under any and all circumstances. He's never raised a hand to a woman, or girl. He's never thought himself even capable of it. The guilt begins to eat at him for mostly wrong reasons.

_That's Sonny's daughter..._

_She's young and very impressionable..._

_You said I was lovely..._

What would Rebecca or Jennifer have thought of him, if they'd seen him tonight? His table is empty and Ethan gives in. He'll go and apologize, God willing succeed in some damage control. Grabbing his jacket off his chair he leaves, resolved to end this drama once and for all.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: It's funny that I wrote this a day and a half ago and seeing how similar it is to the actual storyline of the show. Even the dialog! Either great minds think alike or these writers are getting cocky and falling back onto mediocrity. I'm gonna say the latter because I'm modest and I really did not like the way today's episode ended.

The drive takes forever, but he doesn't care. It gives him time to plan out what he's going to say and how to best convey that nothing would or could ever happen between them. He scoffs at the miles of trees and wonders how anyone can stand it, living out in the middle of nowhere. He was born in the hustle and bustle of the city, and frankly he plans to die there too.

Finally the lake house he knows belongs to the legendary Alexis Davis appears on the horizon of his vision. With a heavy sigh and a frustrated rake of his fingers through his hair he pulls up to the house. He cuts the engine before noticing that no artificial light is filtering through the windows. A glance at the clock on the dash tells him the late hour. Alexis is probably a fan of early bedtimes and he moves to start the engine back up, resigned that maybe this is best. To give them both more time to cool down.

It's by pure chance that he presses the gas and drives forward instead of reversing. He's an excellent driver, hence why he stopped himself before he could plow through their foyer. It's because of this, and the oddly heavy breeze of summer, that he sees their front door swaying wide open.

Ethan's brow furrows, wondering if he's caught a burglar in the act. He cuts the engine for the second time and creeps out from his car. He leaves his door open, not wanting the sound of it's closure to alarm anyone to his presence. He eases up the steps silently, pausing under the night sky to hear for any suspicious sounds. But the night is empty of sound and the air whispering in his ears is all he can hear.

He peers into the darkness of the lake house from the safe distance of the steps. An unconscious step forward and there's the creak of old porch boards under his boots. There's a scurry of something under the cloak of midnight inside the house and he rushes forward, flicking the light switch as he goes. Hoping to catch a glimpse of the intruder before he can escape.

He isn't prepared for the sights or sounds the greet him. His well trained eyes followed the form in the darkness so that when the lights came on he knew exactly where to look. In the far corner of the room, near the large fireplace, was the shaking form of a girl. Peering at him from beneath a long curtain of hair. It takes him a moment to realize that she's naked, and even longer to notice the marks blooming across her body and face and what it all implies.

Ethan's feet carry him forward again of their own accord, his hands outstretched awkwardly, "Kristina?"

He isn't prepared for the lump that rises in his throat as she shrinks away from him, pressing herself into the wall and whimpering unintelligibly. Her arms are raised in front of her, trying to shield herself from whatever she thinks he might do. One of her eyes is more than obviously swollen shut. A streak of blood traces the corner of her mouth to her chin and further. He can see a mark on her arm that stands darker than the rest, older... It feels like someone's taken a bat to his stomach. Because he knows, that if he were to stretch his hands out around it... it would be a perfect mirror of his palm and fingers.

He doesn't know what to do at first, but realizes that staring at her like he is isn't going to help. His gaze moves around the room before finally falling on the throw than hangs on the couch inches from him. He takes it and walks carefully over to her, his hands held up like a surrender.

"I won't hurt you, Kristina." She's still shaking so he unfolds the blanket before draping it around her shoulders. Careful not to touch her directly. "Tell me who did this to you?" Her gaze turns sharply to him, eyes wide and fearful. They shift frantically between him and the empty doorway. Her lips move but she doesn't speak, and he notices the ugly purple hand print across her throat. New tears spring to her eyes and he decides not to push it.

"I want to take you to the hospital, is that okay?" She doesn't move, but she isn't protesting either, and so he takes her silence as a 'yes'. "Can you walk?" He asks but she's slow to respond. She clutches the blanket tightly around herself and braces her hand against the fireplace, ready to lift herself.

"Ahh!" A scream of pain rips from her lungs and she collapses back against the wall. She doesn't remember hurting her legs but the agony is not something she imagined.

"Okay, okay." Ethan says reassuringly, trying to think of what else he can do. It took _him_ long enough to find the place on his own, he doesn't want to take a chance with an ambulance. "Kristina, I'm gonna need to carry you. Is that okay?" She's still staring off at nothing in particular, contemplating. "I won't if you don't want me to." He reiterates. It takes another few minutes before she nods disconnectedly, like a child who's learning the movement it's body is capable of.

"Okay." Ethan says quietly. He's cautious and slow as he takes her into his arms. She stiffens and he can hear her whimper in pain, her body protesting in soreness and biting torment. He looks down at her, her eyes screwed shut against every agonizing sensation. He waits until she relaxes before taking her to his car.

Kristina is small and light in his arms, and he wonders how anybody could hurt her this way. He saw the ripped clothes on the floor, the strategically located bruises... He knows there's not a chance in hell that she wasn't raped, but he can't hope but help that he's wrong as he eases her gently into the passenger seat of his car. Carefully buckling her in, doing everything he thinks he can do to protect her.

She's asleep by the time they reach General Hospital, and he thinks that maybe that's best considering the circumstances. He doesn't think about concussions or trauma, all he can think about is protecting her. He's frustrated when he pulls in and no one is there. He's quick on his feet though.

* * *

Pulling her gently from the car once more, he rushes inside and jumps in the elevator. The seconds pass like hours, each number slowly glowing and subsequently extinguishing until they reach their floor. There's bright _ping_, that he thinks is completely inappropriate for some reason but it washes relief through him anyway as the doors ease open all too slowly for his taste.

Epiphany is the first person his eyes see and he thinks that he couldn't have picked anyone better to be there. "I need help over here!" He calls to the almost empty room.

Epiphany is cool on her feet, the panic at recognizing the girl in his arms is brief and quickly set aside in a nonthreatening corner of her mind. "Get a gurney!" she calls to no one in particular.

At the same time theres a barely familiar voice from behind him, "Kristina?"

Dante quickly closes the cell phone he'd been cradling to his ear and stuffing a folded piece of paper into the breast pocket of his leather jacket. "What happened?" Both Dante and Epiphany ask at once.

"Some bastard beat the living daylights out of her." He says a little crudely, not bothering to hide the distaste in his voice. In seconds there's a gurney in front of him and he's easing the broken girl onto it as kindly as he can, a little nagging voice in his head telling him not to let her go.

Robin and Patrick appear as if from nowhere and they're all talking to each other as they take notes on her current condition. He doesn't hear any of it, everything feels like white noise. He only sees the bruises and blood and the way she's so limp and fragile among the bustle of the world around her. The gurney begins to move and he's snapped back into reality.

Ethan's hand jumps outward, gently pulling Epiphany back. The other woman turns to him, her dark brows crinkle in silent questioning. Ethan leans in, lowering his voice, "Epiphany... she may have been raped." There's an understanding nod from the older woman before she wanders away. They disappear in a whirlwind of monitors and diagnosis' as he rakes his hands through his hair. A habitual habit that signals a form of discomfort.

* * *

Dante nearly drops the phone when he sees Luke's new found son cradling his younger half-sister into the lobby of General Hospital.

He rapidly punches a new number into the phone, he's a little shocked when the person on the other end picks up almost immediately.

"Hello?"

"Sonny?"

"Dante?"

"Yeah, I need you come down to General Hospital as soon as you can. Call Alexis, ask her to meet you here."

"Is this about the trial?" Sonny asks, the irritation obvious in his voice.

"No, Sonny..." Dante manages with exasperation. "It... it's Kristina. Just hurry, okay." The line goes dead before he can finish. Closing his cellphone he wonders, a little belatedly, if he's done the right thing.

* * *

"Who?"

Ethan turns to see that Dante is speaking to him, his face a collage of anger and protectiveness. Ethan immediately remembers that Dante is Sonny's kid, and so is Kristina. "What'd you mean?"

"Who raped Kristina?" The other man punctuates every word, clearly having as much trouble with the idea as Ethan had.

"She wouldn't tell me." He says, regret clouding his voice. "She was terrified."

"Why were you there?"

Ethan takes a deep breath, motioning for Dante to follow him into the waiting area a few feet away. They settle stiffly into a couple of chairs. "Earlier tonight," Ethan begins as Dante assumes his role as a detective and taking notes as professionally as he can. "Kristina and I got into an altercation of sorts."

"What kind of altercation?" Dante cuts off, prepared to discover every detail.

Ethan takes a deep breath, deciding the truth may actually keep him out of the most trouble. "Kristina was under the impression that I was interested in her. She showed up tonight at the Haunted Star expecting more. I lost head. I was cruel and I grabbed her arm. Later on I dropped by her house to apologize... the lights were out so I assumed they must already be sleeping. As I was getting ready to leave I saw that the front door was wide open. Thinking it was a burglar I went to check it out. That's when I found her, just sitting in the dark. I saw the bruises and her clothes ripped up and lying everywhere. I connected the dots, and brought her here."

"Can anyone vouch for your whereabouts beforehand?" Dante asks, massaging his temples at the images conjured by Ethan's story.

"My father and several gamblers at the Haunted Star."

"How do I know you're not lying to me?" Dante finally looks Ethan dead in the eye. "You admit you were rough with her, is rape really such a far stretch?" Dante knows he doesn't make any sense, but he can't help it. She's his half-sister, even he didn't realize he would care this much. He didn't even know her...

"I wouldn't rape her." It was all Ethan could come up for his defense.

"We're going to need to take a sample of your DNA." Dante says, the challenge obvious in his voice.

"Done." Ethan says without hesitation, his gaze noticeably flickering between Dante and the hallways down which Kristina disappeared. Dante is surprised by the worry etched on the older man's face, but quickly sets it aside as he see's Sonny and Alexis breeze into the hospital.

* * *

A/N: SPOILER ALERT! SPOILER ALERT! I can't believe these script writers. Kristina pinning her assault on Ethan, and Ethan acting like a jerk after being so kind when he found her? I was hoping for a story that might mirror the 'light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel' feel I'm incorporating into my story. This is definitely a darker side of GH, possibly worse than Helena.

Thanks to LadyJax999 for being my first reviewer. Thanks for your support!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thank you for all the wonderful reviews! And I'm really sorry this update took so long, I'm busy with college stuff and it's really spongeing my time. As I watch the episodes currently, I feel compelled to note Kristina as OOC. I like her in my story but she's grinding on my last nerve on the show. But that's just me personally. Anyway, for the delay I tried to make this longer than the last. Enjoy!

* * *

She thinks she may be going crazy. It's a very real possibility. Kristina used to think she was so mature, nothing could touch her. Not ugly things like insanity or abuse or... or rape. But she_ was_ abused and she _was_... it's still a hard pill to swallow. Sanity is next on the list, it's not so unbelievable anymore.

It's not long before she sees her parents coming through the curtain and she can't decide if she's relieved or terrified all over again. They ask her who hurt her, but she still can't bring herself to say it. She thanks God and Lucky Spencer, who seems to have appeared from nowhere, for making them stop. Stress can apparently make things worse. She hasn't spoken yet. All questions are answered with a meek shake or nod of her head. She can't even look people in the eye she feels so disgusted.

Lucky had pulled Sonny and Alexis from the room. She can see the profile of her mothers face through a piece of curtain that hadn't been tugged all the way shut. When Alexis' hands move to cover her mouth and her eyes water with tears, that's when Kristina knows that they know. They know what some monster did to her... took from her.

Her mother is currently asleep, her head beside Kristina's bruised hip. She's stroking her mothers hair, something that's familiar and used to be vice-versa when Kristina was just a baby. She still remembers...

(FLASHBACK)

"_When did you get to be so grown up?" Alexis is framed in the doorway of her bedroom. Watching Kristina with motherly pride as she gets ready for school. Kristina remembers being proud her mother thought her mature, she also remembers only smiling in response to the question._

(END FLASHBACK)

She hadn't been grown up then, she realizes as her fingers and chipped nails comb her mothers hair absentmindedly. She was a stupid kid. Sneaking into parties. Dating a boy a whole year older than her. Dressing in clothes even mature women would consider risque. She remembers it all. Thinking that it all meant something.

No she _was_ just a kid then, a baby. She'll never be that girl again.

_When did you get to be so grown up?_

She grew up when Keifer made her submissive with the back of his hand, like she was an animal. She grew up when she killed Claudia's baby in the accident. She grew up when she heard her father was being tried for murder. She grew up when men thought they could put their hands on her and possess her...

She's a grown up now. All illusions have melted away with something that took minutes to occur, she isn't the spoiled bratty daughter-of-a-mobster Kristina. She's happy she'll never be her again, she's just in disbelief that this is what it took, to have her eyes opened.

_Who are you then? _

"I don't know anymore..." Her voice isn't even a whisper, so low that she's not even sure it was said aloud or if her lips just formed the words.

* * *

"Why did you call me here?"

Dante turns to Lucky with a serious look on his face. "Conflict of interest." He can see from Lucky's expression that he's putting the pieces together.

"It's easy to forget Sonny's her father." _And yours too_, he wanted to add but decided against it.

"Yeah, it is. I don't think I can take her statement." Lucky is understanding and that is why he called him. "I can't be apart of this and keep professional."

"I'll take over, it's no trouble." Dante has faith in Lucky, even if he doesn't really know him. But Lucky has a younger sister too, Dante's own girlfriend. If anybody has motivation and professional temperament it's probably Lucky.

Lucky goes to do his job and Dante goes to find Lulu. He thinks he'll hug her and hold her and kiss her and promise to never hurt her. Tell her that he'll never let anyone else hurt her either.

* * *

He can't stay there.

Everyone keeps asking him questions he's too tired to answer. Some questions he has no answer for. They pester and flock around him, _Do you know who did it? Is there anyone you would suspect? What's your relationship with her?_

He hates the way they always just say 'her', like no one wants to say her name right now. Like it's a taboo of some sort. He's torn between bolting out of there faster than his feet than carry him and staying, if only to show his support. He's interrupted when he sees Lucky making a beeline for him.

"I need to talk to you." Lucky calls.

"I've been talking all night, can't this wait until tomorrow."

"It is tomorrow." Lucky quips rather dryly and Ethan's laugh is just as mirthless. "But yes, it can wait." They stand there in silence, a cloud of empty air between them. Both unsure of what to say.

Ethan shuffles his feet before asking,"How bad is it?"

Lucky inhales, the obvious weight of the subject bearing down on his memories of Elizabeth. Though through the stories Ethan's been told, Elizabeth's attack hadn't been quiet as violent but probably no less traumatizing. "Her face is pretty banged up and swollen, but it'll heal. A couple broken bones, her left leg and a fractured rib. Sprained wrist. She's gonna be in a lot of pain for awhile."

"Can't they give her morphine?" He's confused by how he feels, combinations of anger and worry about a dozen different things.

"They have." Lucky's shoulder hunch, trying to find the best way to say it. "But it's gonna make her groggy, eventually she's not gonna want the morphine anymore. Drugs and painkillers won't help her with the pain that isn't physical, that's the one that's gonna last and haunt her... I'm just saying the road is gonna be tough from here."

"I know." He's not sure what else to say. Lucky notices the way Ethan shuffles his feet, his heavy lidded eyes that find it hard to look up. "Do you think it would be alright if I went to see her?"

"She's probably asleep, but I think it's okay."

Ethan gave a quick nod of his head to Lucky before heading for Kristina's room. It doesn't take long for him to find it. He's surprised to see that it's empty of visitors but sits down in the empty chair by her bed anyway. Her right eye is swollen. He knows, were she awake, she wouldn't be able to open it. There's already a cast on her leg and gauze wrapped around her wrist.

Her small frame is beaten and subdued, so still that it breaks his heart to see her like this. The artificial curls have softened and her hair hangs limp and straight around her shoulders. The make-up is gone and so it seems is something else he can't quite put his finger on. "I'm sorry this happened to you. I should have gotten there sooner..." He averts his gaze, choosing to stare at his fumbling fingers instead. Twisting the ring round and round his thumb.

"You didn't know." Her voice is small and fragile but it breaks through his reverie regardless. His eyes snap to her face, seeing that she is awake and watching him with her pretty brown eyes.

"I thought you were asleep." His voice is thick, he didn't realize how close he'd been to tears a moment ago.

"I was pretending. It makes my parents more comfortable, if they think I'm asleep instead of awake and..." Her voice trails off but he knows what she means to say. _If she were awake and feeling and remembering._ "Besides, if I'm asleep they can't ask me questions."

"That's very sneaky of you." He says, if only to lighten the mood. She smiles but he knows it's only to humor him. "Have you told them, anyone, who did this?" Kristina visibly tenses under his gaze and he can tell that she hasn't.

"I-I can't."

He tries to make himself let it go, but he can't. "Kristina, were you... did he-" he swallows the lump in his throat. "Were you raped?" He finally asks. For some reason he need to hear it from her.

Her silence is deafening and the tear that slides down her cheek is all the conformation he needs. He feel dizzy and sick.

"_Why_?" He persists as gently as he can. "_Why_ are you protecting this person?"

Her eyes are downcast in shame and she can't look at him when she speaks. "Because he meant something to me once. And because Sony Corinthos is my father, he's not known for his mercy."

"If you tell Lucky, the system will deal with him." He can't bring himself to offer her attacker any more safety than that. She's silent again, unsure of what to say or how to say it.

"I need time." The moonlight rests on her face, and suddenly their both very unsure. He leaves like a shadow, no trace of his existence left behind except the bruise on her arm they both wish could be scrubbed away out of existence. She watches the night sky, waiting for the sun and whatever will come next.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Totally forgot about this, but obviously I don't own anything but the plot, otherwise this would be a script and not fanfiction :)

She doesn't leave the house.

It's been two days and she can't bring herself to step past the threshold of her own house. But she also can't stand being in it, alone. Her mom and Sam are the only ones she can bear being around. The don't press her anymore, and Sam is trying so hard to keep them both sane. Molly keeps insisting that she call Keifer and let him know she's okay. Kristina feels nauseated by the very thought.

He calls incessantly, the tiny pink phone always buzzing through the silence. She only bothered to hear the first message he left, saying how sorry he was, before shoving it into the bottom of her hamper. She hates doing laundry, she knows this way she won't have to think about it for awhile and Molly isn't likely to look for it there.

She knows Molly means well, it doesn't stop the fury that burns through Kristina's every limb every time Molly even mentions him. Which is all the time, going so far as to tell Kristina that she's being cruel to Keifer. Kristina can't bring herself to break all the illusions the younger girl has about love and life.

Sam gave her a make-up lesson today. She doesn't want to think about how her older sister learned these tricks, or how similar their lives have suddenly become. She can tell what her condition does to Sam, the memories it brings back to life behind her sisters sad eyes. Like a movie you can't believe ever happened. Kristina is grateful Sam has Jason now, he protects her and loves her the way Kristina knows she deserves.

Eventually Sam leaves, and she's in the house all alone. Kristina can't really say what compelled her to do it, but after Sam leaves she grabs her crutches and hops around the house- locking every door and window in series of echoing snaps.

It doesn't help. She still feels exposed. She's still afraid Keifer will come back._ He always does..._ she thinks, and it's all she can take.

She goes to her room in a hurry, throwing on her long red coat over her clothes and pocketing the can of mace Alexis left on her nightstand that morning before leaving for work. She can't stay here, she just needs to be in some comfortable company and she'll be fine. She just can't stay there, in the house where she was raped.

Kristina practically runs out the door, trying to lock the door behind her quickly. She drops the keys and suddenly she's panicking. Her hands shake as she tries to push the key back into the lock without breaking it in the process. Finally the door locks and she spins around to run. She forgets about her cast and quickly finds herself tumbling into someone's arms.

.

.

.

.

.

* * *

She stiffens as he catches her, the second before she looks to see it's he who caught her- Ethan felt fear shaking her every limb. He sees the relief in her eyes and can't help the pity and anguish that puts a firm grip on him. _She thought you were her attacker... _a little voice in his head explains.

"Ethan?" She breathes his name in confusion as she tries to set herself right, grabbing the forgotten crutches leaning against the door frame. "What are you doing here?"

"What- oh, um..." He picks a crumpled bag off the porch, the one he'd dropped carelessly in his effort to catch her. "I was getting some coffee at Kelly's and Mike asked me to bring this to you."

"What is it?"

She watches as Ethan opens the bag, allowing the aromas of all her favorite foods flutter under her nose. "Comfort food." There's a moment of silence as she let's Mike's gesture warm her heart. "Where were you going?"

"I um, was just going out."

"You can't drive like that, and it would be a pretty long walk to anywhere from here." He points out, a little suspicious- curious if she's lying to him and why.

"I know." She admits sheepishly. "I just couldn't stay in there."

Ethan understands, what it must be like for her now, to have to live in the house she was raped and beaten in.

"I can take you, wherever you'd like to go." He knows this may not be the best idea he's ever had. The first time around his sympathy for Kristina got him into more trouble than he'd ever like to be in again. But the words are out before he can think about any of it, hanging over them, too late to be taken back.

She wants to tell that she doesn't need his pity, that she doesn't want his concern. But it doesn't quite come out that way. "You don't need too. I'm sure Sam will be by eventually." It's all a lie. Kristina doesn't want to trap him in her life like she was trying to before. She realizes how much she hurts the people around her, even without meaning to. She doesn't even want to dream up what kind of hell might come to Ethan along the road, because of her. The possibilities seemed infinite.

He's quiet again, simply staring at her. She's giving him an easy out, by all means he should take it. Save himself while he can, before this goes only God knows where. "It's a nice day and I don't have to be back at the casino until late. How 'bout the park?" She has to stop herself from falling into his words, the way he speaks kind of hypnotizes her. But she's learned that older men are dangerous and she's already lost more than she can handle. What she needs is a friend.

"The park sounds nice."

.

.

.

.

.

* * *

They're sitting on a hill in a remote part of the park. Trees encircle them, hiding them like a wonderful secret. She abandoned her coat when they'd arrived and let Ethan help her precariously up the barely steep hill. The warmth of the sun and contrasting cool breeze was all she needed. It felt cleansing, and for once today she wasn't afraid.

Fear was definitely the last emotion she was feeling at that moment.

He watches the way she lies on the grass, arms spread out like a child making snow angels. His fascination lasts only a moment, before it can take him to dangerous places. Plopping down next to her, the bag from Mike in hand, he says, "I don't think I've ever really been here before."

Her eyes are closed, like she's sleeping. But he can tell that she's remembering, and the memories are good by the slight smile on her face. "I used to always come here as a kid. When my mom was still married to _Rick_ and we were all a real family. Molly on the way and everything."

He's never heard of Rick, or known that her mother had ever been married. But it's the way Kristina's voice prickles around the mysterious man's name, it's obvious he's another man who tainted some part of her life. Ethan wants to ask but decides it probably isn't important just yet.

"Kind of reminds me of the reefs back home." He says pulling out the back of cookies first.

"How so?" She asks imperiously, all joking and curiosity.

"The weather I guess. It's always like this back there. The ocean is clear as this sky, it doesn't get any better than that. And there's just these amazing colors wherever you look." He presses a cookie into her open palm thats resting on the grass.

"I'd like to go there someday." She says dreamily, picturing it behind her closed eyelids and taking a tiny bite of the large cookie.

"You will. And when you do, you'll go scuba diving. I was working a con on this old bastard and his gold-digging fiancé. Went diving around their yacht, best sight I've ever seen." She laughs and he thinks it's a wonderful sound. Pushing the thought away he lays down parallel to her body, a foot or two of grass and tiny flowers between them. He watches the clouds as they each pull random items from the bag. Picking each piece apart between them.

"Do you ever travel?" He asks, his curiosity genuine.

"No, not in a long time. My mom took me to France with her when I was seven. It was overrated." He can tell the sadness is creeping back over her, so he tries to chase it away.

"You were young, Paris is meant for people in between."

"In between what?" A small gust of wind comes at the moment, blowing the comforting scent of his soap against her sore face.

"Experiences. You have to have had some adventures, Paris isn't a place you just jump into."

There's a pause of silence as she thinks about it, mulling over his words. "Tell me where else I should go."

He pauses. Fingering through the catalog of his memories for a place she's like. "Lisbon. You look like a girl who could appreciate Lisbon."

"In Portugal?"

"Yup. Maybe after that, Paris."

"I always wanted to go to Florence..." She admits a little meekly, twisting her fingers in her lap and her eyes on the clouds.

"I've never been there." He says a little incredulously, a laugh gently shakes in his chest. "There aren't a lot of places I haven't been."

"I want to go to Greece too."

"I've been there. Don't take cars, put on a pair of hiking boots and just walk. It's better that way."

"I'll remember that..." The air between them is light and unburdened, she doesn't feel the need to fill the silence. And she isn't afraid of him either, like she is of most of the men in her life. She thinks about Keifer and her hand unconsciously lifts to touch her bruised face. It was a ghost of a touch, but the dull pain comes anyway making her wince and hiss lowly.

Ethan hears her sharp intake of breath. Sitting up straight he looks over to her worriedly. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing, I'm just a little sore." Kristina shakes her head absentmindedly, moving to sit up as well. He helps her up, remembering the fractured rib Lucky told him about. "Do you think I'm a coward?" She asks abruptly and he's obviously taken aback by the look she sees on his face.

"Why would I think that?" He asks finally.

"For not telling Lucky, or anyone, who did this... For me wanting to protect him."

He tries to step lightly. "I don't think you're a coward, Kristina."

"Then what do you think?" She says insistingly. He doesn't answer and her eyes fall downcast, long brown hair falling like a curtain over her shoulder. She's surprised when he tilts her chin up to look at him, tucking the strands of hair back behind her ear.

"I think you should tell me. I think you should have faith in everyone around you that wants to help." A tear slides down her face, unbidden and silent. He wipes it away with his thumb, the rough texture of it sliding over her cheek in contrasting gentleness. "I wish you'd tell me." He whispers.

She takes a deep breath. This is it, what he's asking her to do, take the plunge into everything she can't control all over again.

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A/N: HOPE YOU ENJOYED. KEEP READING AND REVIEWING PLEASE!


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: In case anyone is confused, italicized words are thoughts. Nothing is spoken aloud unless it's in quotes. At the end of this chapter this is a very important key. Italicized are nonverbal thoughts, but the bolded words at the end are also nonverbal thoughts. It's just a mental argument Ethan's having with himself, and I know we've all had those. (Or is it really just me, lol?) Thank you for all the wonderful commentary!**

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She can feel his touch on her face and his faith seems to fill her with a bravery she didn't think she had in her anymore. "I need to go home." Kristina whispers to him, her eyes focused on his. Unfailing and carrying every ounce of courage she has left.

"I'm sorry if I pushed you-" He starts but she shakes her head gently, stopping him mid apology.

"It's not that. I need to get something from my house... before I go to the police station." He realizes what she's saying and nods mutely. And it's all he can do not to pull her into his arms and tell her everything he wants to say. Like how he's glad she's speaking out, putting the bastard who hurt her behind bars. Or how happy he is that she trusts him so much, after what he did. After all the things they both did.

He picks up the bag of leftovers, tucking it under one arm, and using his other arm to help Kristina down the hill and back to his car. The drive to her house is quiet and quick, the fact that Ethan is a hair's distance from being over the speed limit has not escaped her notice.

She asks him to wait in the car just before she heads into the house. Once she's in her room she digs to the bottom of her laundry basket, clawing through her dirty clothes until her thin fingers clasp around the small solid object of her former affection. She stares at for a moment. It's buzzing in the palm of her hand and the heat from it feels like it's burning through her skin like acid. She sees Keifer's smiling face in her mind and a cold nausea sweeps through every inch of her.

"You can do this." She reminds herself as she tucks the tiny pink cell phone into her pocket.

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The drive to the police station takes longer than the one from the park to her house, and is more than equally quiet. Neither of them knows what to say. Kristina is still trying to figure out how she's going to say it. _What will happen to Keifer after this? What if a jury finds Keifer innocent? Will Sonny try to kill him? _

_Would that be such a bad thing?_

But Ethan's pulling into the police station before she can answer her own questions. "Are you ready?"

She rolls the question around in her mind. Testing it's hypothetical weight and feel. "I don't think I'll ever really be ready." She gives a nervous smile, but it's not reassuring or even remotely humored.

"I'll be in there with you, if it get's to be too much then tell me and I'll get you out." Being around Ethan has the effect of lifting a ten ton boulder off her chest. Like his very presence is oxygen. She inclined her head in understanding and stepped out of the car.

The station was in it's usual calm but busy mode. Everyone had their ears listening out for her fathers trial and their eyes on their actual work. She felt a small fall of her heart at seeing Lucky at his desk. How easy this would be, to destroy Keifer's life. To put the proverbial nail in his coffin as it were. She thinks about running away, leaving to hide back in the park where she'd almost forgotten anything had happened at all. But she can feel Ethan's presence urge her forward, one step in front of the other until she finds herself at Lucky's desk.

He looks up, a little startled, and stops riffling through a bunch of tissue-like papers across his desk. "Kristina? What are you doing here?" She sees his eyes shift curiously between her and Ethan, waiting for an answer she's pretty sure he already knows.

"I'm here to report my attacker." She says, watching as Lucky's eyes change from subtle surprise to full blown understanding.

"Alright." He holds his hand out, gesturing for her to sit down. Ethan pulls out her chair and she eases herself into it carefully, trying to position both the cast on her leg and the other on her wrist more comfortably. She hands her crutches to Ethan and he holds onto them when he knows that, for now, he can't hold onto her. "Start by telling me the events that occurred on March 12th, 2010." He pulls out a large yellow pad and pen, waiting for her to speak.

Apart of her feels like she's out of her body, reliving every second of- the words merely tumbling out as an after affect. "My boyfriend, Keifer, bought me a dress. We were supposed to go to a college party. He wanted to impress his friends at Harvard. So he said I had to look more mature. I cancelled and went to meet Ethan at the Haunted Star..." The memory is so vivid and intense that she doesn't feel the way Ethan stiffs beside her. "I thought he liked me and so I wanted to convince him I wasn't too young. We fought and I was forced to leave."

"Physically or verbally?" Lucky interrupts.

"What?" She asks, confused.

"The fight between you and Ethan, was it physical or verbal?"

"Verbal."

"Both." Ethan says at the same time Kristina does. Lucky waits for them to clarify, eyeing them warily.

"You don't have to." She whispers, and the look on her face of complete sincerity convinces Ethan that in fact he does.

"Both." He reiterates. "I yelled at her and then I grabbed her arm. I told her she had to leave."

"And that was the extent of it?" Lucky says without looking at either of them.

"Yes." Kristina answers before Ethan can incriminate himself further. With what, she doesn't know, she just doesn't want to take her chances.

"Okay then, Kristina, continue." Lucky waits, his pen poised above the offending yellow paper again.

"I left the Haunted Star alone. But I was still angry so I went to the Metro Court. Sam found me there and took me home. We talked at the lake house for a little while, before she left. A few minutes after she was gone, there was a knock at the door. I thought it was Sam, that she'd forgotten something and come back." She can still remember that instant kind of terror, when she saw Keifer at the door and not Sam.

Ethan's hand wraps around her own, letting her know she needed to keep going. "It was Keifer... he was so angry. I tried to talk him down but... it didn't work. He started hitting me and pushing me around. I thought he'd just do that and leave..."

"But he didn't." Lucky fills in what she can't admit.

"I heard him pulling down his zipper. I started kicking and screaming again, I didn't even realize it was me who screaming at first. I thought someone had found me, I thought someone was going to stop him. But then his hand wrapped around my neck, and I realized I was the one screaming. H-he tore my dress off, and he held me down." She feels like she's drowning, suffocating all over again; tripping over her own words as she tries to keep going. "His hand was so... so tight around my throat, I wanted to pass out. I didn't want..."

Ethan can feel his own body constricting in on himself, at every word of her story. He sees it to, in his minds eye. It was tearing his insides to hear her, but he knows that it's normal. But there's a different tinge to his pain, one he has no name for.

"What did he do Kristina?" She doesn't know who asked, and she doesn't care. All she can hear is white noise as the memory plays in her mind like horrible movie.

"He raped me." She doesn't realize she's crying until Ethan's arms are around her, pulling her into him and tucking her head under his chin.

"Can she go?" Ethan doesn't know what else to say, he hates that this happened to her. He wants to kill Keifer, and realizes he should have beat the crap out of him while he had the chance. He doesn't know why he did't see it before. He'd seen Keifer fight with Kristina before, he could have stopped this before it happened. And the guilt he feels for that is twisting his insides like a clown twisting balloon animals.

"I need his full name Kristina."

"Keifer... Keifer Bauer." At the sound of the boys last name, Lucky visibly tenses. He knows the Bauers. He knows of their money and their ties to the Mayor and how much sway the mayor has over the PCPD that it's laughable. He's afraid for Kristina, there's suddenly a very real possibility Keifer could walk away from this scratch-free.

At that moment Kristina sets a tiny pink cell phone down in front of him, drawing him from his reverie. "What's this for?"

She was already standing to leave, Lucky doesn't notice the way Ethan's arm is holding Kristina closely, protectively. "Keifer gave that to me a few months ago. So we could have 'privacy'. He's been calling since it happened. I'm not sure what's on the phone but the first message, it's something you should listen to."

"Are you ready?" Ethan asks gently. She nods like a small girl again, her pin straight hair shaking around her face.

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It takes Lucky three hours to go through every text and all the voice mail messages. Calling the phone company and retrieving transcripts for evidence. They're all from Keifer and he all but admits that he's the one who raped her. They start off tame enough.

_K, i'm sorry. please pick up._

A few messages later.

_Stop acting like bratty bitch!_

Another set of texts later.

_Are with Ethan you whore?!_

And it only got worse from there. But as Kristina said, the first voice message was the most damning._ K, I'm so sorry about hitting you. You just make me so mad, sometimes. If you hadn't been hanging around Ethan I wouldn't have hurt you. Please, I'm so sorry. Please just call me back, I hope your okay. I love you K._

Lucky feels the urge to throw something, maybe shove the tiny pink cell phone down Keifer's throat until the younger man can't breath. Give him a taste of how terrified Kristina must have felt, although Lucky isn't sure even he could every understand that feeling. He tosses aside all thoughts of his own parents before he can think too deeply about everything. He's already forgiven his father, thinking about it in this context would only set him back a hundred steps.

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Hypnosis. That's what this feels like.

Or maybe de ja vu is a better term.

All she knows is that she feels somewhere in between. She's not as traumatized as she was the moment it happened, or even the day after. But she's not past it yet, not by a long shot. Her eyelids have felt like ten ton lead weights since they left the police station. She wants to sleep forever, and live in dreams. She's only terrified of the inevitable nightmares that leave large red and black stains on the carpet of her subconscious.

But she must sleep. She must keep going, no matter how tired her legs get or heavy her eye lids feel. And as she dozes off in the passenger seat of Ethan's car she wonders at last, _How long until this feeling goes away?_

Ethan is relieved when her eyes finally drift closed and her breathing is steady again. His foot eases up on the gas peddle and everything goes from blurs of greenish black to a tranquil clarity. He wants to keep her here for as long as he can, where he can watch over her. The thought pulls an audible laugh from him, mostly devoid of actual mirth.

He isn't her protector.

He isn't anyone's knight in shining armor.

He's a gentleman true, but that is where he draws the line. If he's honest with himself, he's not even that vigilant a brother to his own sister. _But you can trust Dante..._ His subconscious fires back.

_Be her friend, and nothing more_...

Suddenly he's making a list of reasons why he can't be with her, now or ever... and consequently arguing with himself.

_She's too young. _**That won't always matter.**

_She was just brutalized in the worst way, she won't be able to look at anyone romantically for a long time. _**I can wait.**

_You could never have a normal relationship. _**Normalcy is overrated, I've never been normal at anything.**

_You'll leave when things get serious, you always do. _**I can change...**

_**We've tried that before...**_

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_**A/N: I'll be posting a playlist to my profile soon, just the songs that i listen to as I write this :)**_


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: about 200 visitors, 24 story subscribers and only 2 reviews for Chapter 5. I'm not a narcissist. I don't absolutely need praise, but I do greatly appreciate feedback. I know my writing isn't great, in fact I should re-read the chapters more than a few times before posting as I have a tendency toward grammatical errors (which kind of makes me hypocritical since I can't stand that in other stories, least of all my own). I'm just asking that you please review or subscribe to the story so I have motivation to keep up with it, and hopefully not abandon it if I think no one really cares either way.**

**Thank you to those who did comment the previous chapter, it was greatly appreciated.**

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He drops her off at her house, leaves her alone to tell Alexis everything. He can't stay, he doesn't belong in her life now. The way he's feeling about her now, he can't. She trusts him to much, he thinks. He reasons that it's unhealthy for her at this point, he's not good for her. He won't come around for awhile. He won't seek her out, he decides.

She needs to forget about him.

He needs to keep himself from her at all costs. Because he's feeling too much for her already. He's already wondered what it's like to kiss her, albeit in passing and completely abruptly. What if he can't control himself and it just happens? What if she gets traumatized all over again?

What if she makes him angry like she did that night? He wants to believe he'll never raise his hand or voice to her, but he can't be sure.

He doesn't think he'll be okay if she's ever afraid of him...

No, he won't come around anymore. It's what's best.

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"That little son of a bitch is gonna die!" Glasses and liquor clatter to the ground noisily, screaming sounds of crystal and floor crashing into one another. Victims of Sonny's temper once more. The shards glitter and sparkle across the floor. Nothing surviving. Like his mother, once. Like his daughter, now. This is what some little bastard thought he could do to his daughter and walk away like nothing happened. "I want him dead Jason. I want it slow and painful. I. Want. Him. Dead."

Jason can see Sonny crumbling before his very eyes, he's always known the right thing to do. But now, he's not so sure. "You're in the middle of a trial for Claudia's murder, Sonny." He says, trying to make the other man see reason. "We have to bid our time. Doing this now will only-"

"I don't care!" There's nothing left to break, his hands curl in on themselves. "He hurt my little girl. Those broken bones, they'll never feel the same again. He took something from her she can never get back, she may never know how to fall in love the right way now. Nothing will ever be the same..."

"Sonny, you need to get through this trial first. Get acquitted. If you don't... You can't be the father she needs from a prison cell." Jason sees the deep lines across Sonny's face. The grief he wears in his every move. How much faster have the pains of his children aged him?

"Alexis says she barely talks to anyone, she flinches when someone touches her. The only one she trusts is Luke's son."

"Alexis kept you out of Kristina's life for a long time, it's okay that you're not as close as you could be. It's not you're fault."

"It is my fault Jason. I didn't fight to keep my own daughter in my life."

"You're a better man for respecting her mother's wishes Sonny." Jason is reasonable, unfaltering in crisis. Sonny has every reason to trust his judgement. Jason has never failed him before. He has to believe that Kristina pressing charges was the right thing to do. Sonny reaches around his back, pulling the heavy Glock from his belt, and holds the handle out to Jason.

"Take it. If you don't I'm gonna hunt him down like the animal he is." Jason takes the firearm carefully, knowing how much this is costing Sonny. There's a few clicks in the silence as Jason empties the cartridge and sets the safety. He'll leave, knowing it's best for Sonny. He's sure Carly will find her way here eventually, talk an extra dose of sense into him.

But it's all Jason can do not to re-load the cartridge and find Keifer himself.

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It's still early, the place is empty. The all-nighters having poured themselves out the door nor more than an hour ago. There's a sound from the entryway and he peers up, thinking he'll find his father catching him in the act of drinking on the job.

"You're not supposed to be here." It's futile he knows, but he's not ready to face her. She sees the lines marring his still-young face, even if his growing five-o'clock shadow suggests otherwise. His voice is strained and... gray. Like's he's been run ragged for days.

"I haven't seen you in weeks." She's not here to play games, he can see the accusation in her eyes. In every firm curve of her face. _You're abandoning me..._

"I know, things have just been a bit crazy." He rakes his hands through his ink black hair, she doesn't let it hypnotize her. She doesn't think about how much she wants do that, comb her fingers through his hair. See if it's as coarse as she imagines, like smooth wires. "I'm sorry." He adds, a little more quietly. A little more honestly.

Ethan's eyes follow her carefully as she limps down the steps. He doesn't realize the breath he holds as she does, ready to run and catch her if she falls. Both casts are gone, but he can still see the lines of a shallow pain around her eyes. She doesn't stop until she is standing in front of the bar, sliding onto one of the stools like a pro. Taking in his disheveled appearance and red eyes. "You're drunk... I could smell it from the stairs."

"Not yet, but it's still early." He pulls the whiskey out from under the bar, pouring himself another glass. He's challenging her, and for the life of him he doesn't even know why.

"Keifer's out on bail." _And I'm scared. _"The trial starts today."

She looks on as he downs the glass like a shot. Swallowing the fire like water. "You can't be here." He says finally.

"They're gonna need me to testify. My mom and Diane are my lawyers. They're gonna ask me what happened, in front of a jury and..."

_I need you there. _He knows it's what she's trying to say but, "Kristina... I can't."

Watching her face fall is like kicking a dying puppy. He feels sickened with himself. "Me either." His heart constricts at her words. If he doesn't go, she won't either. He knows she's stronger than she thinks she is. He knows she's already put more faith in him than she can lose.

He observes her as she swings her legs around before sliding back off the stool. He watches her every move as she walks away. Out of the Haunted Star. Out of his life? She'd never forgive him if he didn't go. He let's the seconds tick by, scowling at the bottle of whiskey as he argues with himself. He can drown his sorrows in the liquor, or he can go help the girl he's unbelievably falling for... and consequently listen as they force her to describe every horrifying detail of her rape...

_Or let her go through it alone? _Ethan pulls his coat from the bar before running out after her.

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She's on the verge of tears when she feels a hand on her shoulder. The tears dry almost instantly, she knew he'd come. She wonder's why she ever doubted him, even for a second. But the person she faces is shorter, thinner and much more terrifying. The scream is caught in her throat as Keifer hones in on her, stepping closer until he's got her pinned between him and the railing of the Haunted Star "You bitch. I was ready to forgive you and I find you here! With him!"

His hands fist around her arms, refreshing old bruises. He shakes her, slamming her backward. The railing bites into the small of her back. A whimper breaks free and she kicks her leg out, trying to remember everything she'd ever heard about self defense.

_Weak points: stomach, foot, groin, nose, eyes... _

_All loose objects can be used as weapons... _

She tries to unbalance him, struggling hard against his hands but he has the advantage. He's maneuvered himself between her legs, throwing the most obvious of her attacks out the window. "Let go of me!" She throws her head forward. He releases her in pain. It takes a split second for her to register the blood spurting from his nose, she tries to run off the ship.

Her bad ankle rolls and she trips before she can be in sight of anyone on the docks. Before she can even try to get up Keifer is on her again. Pressing her into the ground he whispers in her ear, "Seem familiar?" It was all too familiar. She tries to go somewhere else, in her mind. She tries to disconnect as he flips her over. He's on her chest, knees pinning down her arms and hands wrapping around her throat. She can barely put up a good fight anymore. She's so tired... There's a rapid thumping against the metal floor. She thinks it's her heart at first, getting ready to stop beating forever.

Suddenly the weight is gone. The light is brighter, turning white instead of black... _Heaven_. But the pain is still there, the thrumming of feet against the metal floor still vibrates through her body. "Kristina! Kristina!" Someone's shaking her, calling her back. She knows that voice, she dreamed about that voice for weeks until she'd finally broken down. Needing to hear it again, she came looking for him. She's glad she got to see him one last time, even if it wasn't perfect.

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He didn't think when he saw her sprawled on the ground, Keifer sitting on her chest and forcing her last breath from her. He ran to them, ripping Keifer off of her. Before anything can be said he's cracking his fists across the younger boys face. Ethan doesn't feel him go limp, he doesn't see the blood everywhere. On the ground, on his clothes, on his fists...

A sob breaks through his blind rage, and he remembers Kristina. He sees her lying all too still not far from him. Ethan releases the boy and crawls over to Kristina, pulling her carefully into his arms. Shaking her unconscious form with cautious hands. He can't let her go, not like this. She needs to know that he's here for her.

And despite his earlier freakout, he'll always be there for her.

"You just need to stay with me, love. Just stay..." He lifts her up, cradling her close to his chest. He runs inside, laying her down on the soft carpet of the casino. Ethan rips his cell phone from his pocket, calling for an ambulance. He's impatient with them, every other word from his mouth seems to be either _please _or _hurry_.

They finally hang up and he waits anxiously for the sound of sirens. He tucks his jacket under her head, a makeshift pillow. He sits at her side, brushing the hair from her face, checking her strong pulse. It feels like hours until the ambulance arrives, he later learns it was no more than ten minutes. Bustling around him hey begin to check her vitals, informing him she'll be fine. He doesn't notice Lucky until he feels his brother's hand on his shoulder. Pulling him away so that the paramedics can put her on the gurney.

"Keifer's dead." Lucky doesn't expect to see any remorse from Ethan, and he doesn't receive it anyway. Lucky can see the blood that's spattered over him like gory paint, the way it glistens accusingly in the bright daylight of the casino. "Did you do it?" He knows the answer, but he has to ask. He's a cop, so he has to ask. It's his only justification, his only concession...

"I did." Ethan tucks his hands into his pockets. "He was attacking Kristina..."

"Don't say anything. I have to arrest you but-" Lucky reaches for his hand cuffs.

"I didn't realize how hard I hit him. I'm not sorry, but I didn't mean to kill him." He's not arguing, he's explaining. He won't go to jail for this, he can't.

"I figured. I still have to take you in for questioning. Most cases like this, you'll be released quickly. Probably tonight if we had any evidence-"

"Security cameras. Everything is on them, even audio." Ethan watches Lucky laugh before hooking the cuffs on Ethan. He walks into the back and a minute later he's standing in front of Ethan again, tucking a tiny silver disc into a bag.

"You can always count on dad to save our asses in the end." He starts to lead Ethan outside, through the throng of crime scene investigators. There's chalk outlining where they found Keifer.

Where Ethan left him.

He wonders if the boy died instantly, or did it take time? He still can't really believe he did it, that he took a life. No matter who it may have belonged to, no matter how horrible that person may have been. It's another frayed corner of his heart now, not noticeable or thought-consuming but... forever there.

He let's Lucky lead him away to the police station, every rough and cold moment all for show. It doesn't take long for another- emotionally uninvolved- cop to interview him and release him, calling it an accidental death or self defense. He isn't sure. He doesn't care. Ethan just can't stay there anymore, he let's Lucky drive him to General Hospital in isn't anything he can do but wait...

Wait and wonder, _will she forgive me?_


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: 10 reviews! Yay, you guys really are so wonderful. I'm glad you're enjoying the story so much, the comments made gave me more confidence to go in this direction with the plot. Again thank you, I really hope you like this chapter just as much. FYI: I listened to "American Beauty" [some people also call it "Any Other Name"] by Thomas Newman while writing this, it epitomizes the feel I wanted to convey with this chapter.**

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"No no no no no..." That's all she can say. Tears travel down her lovely face like rivers from a broken dam. Her body curls backward on the bed, shrinking away as he takes a step toward her. He's killed Keifer, someone she believes she loved. Whether it was real or not, he can't help but believe that this what he deserves. To have her afraid of him.

His feet carry him forward again, even if he does deserve it... he can't take it. His hands reach for her of their own free will. She raises her own hands defensively, gently shielding herself. "Please don't."

He's confused by her words, and crushed by her fear. He'd never harm her, not the physically violent way she seems susceptible to. He doesn't try again, he simply turns on his heel and leaves the room. Sam is ready to take his empty place. He walks down wide empty hallways, until he can't hear her tortured sobs anymore.

He stays in the hospital though. She may need him later, he stays only for that one reason. It's not that he cares, no more than any friend would.

She's torn to pieces. She knows it sounds cliché out loud but that's how she feels. Like a dull rusted knife has literally invaded her chest and hacked at everything in it's path.

She's crying because Keifer's dead. She really did love him, but she understands that what _he_ felt wasn't love. But in the deep recesses of her heart _she _had loved _him_.

She was crying because she'd allowed herself to be hurt at all by him, physically and emotionally.

And she was crying because Ethan had to carry the burden of Keifer's blood on his hands. Something that might have never happened if she hadn't invaded either of their lives.

This was her fault. If anyone deserved to be locked up it was her.

She had made Keifer that angry. She forced Ethan to care, so much that in defending her he had killed someone.

And the look on his face before he left only made it worse. He'd thought she was afraid. And in fact she had been terrified, not _of _him but _for_ him. Every time people got close to her it seemed something went wrong in their life.

That's how Sam finds her, in uncontrollable tears. All she feels is pain, in her heart... her body... her mind... Until Epiphany comes running in, then everything just steadily fades to black. And the last thing she feels is Sam's fingers gently combing through her hair. Cooing soft sounds and holding her tightly.

It's really a shame Sam never got to be a mother, Kristina thinks, she could have been wonderful at it.

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She's asleep now, too much pain medication. He knows the nurses are only trying to help, make her as comfortable as possible. He won't tell them that she doesn't like pain medication. She can't stand the way it messes with her head, the way it makes her so tired she can't hold her own head up. She'll fight about it with him later, if she's not still repulsed by his very presence, but he knows for now that she needs this. She needs time for her body to heal, to fix itself. So she can get better, and move on. Get past everything that's happened in the past couple of months.

"Thank you." Alexis is watching them from the doorway, looking every inch like a mother with frayed nerves and no more energy. Her hair is in disarray, cheeks stained with tear tracks. Her voice is shaky from those same tears, but it doesn't make Ethan think any less of her.

"For what exactly?" He wonders if she'll admit she's not sad Keifer's dead either.

"For saving her, in more ways than I think you could imagine." She sees the way Ethan holds Kristina's hand in his, like a lion protecting a kitten. She knows Ethan will do the right thing, whatever that may be at this point. "Even if she can't see it now. If there's anyone she can thank for saving her life, it's undoubtably you..."

"Anything for a friend..." He says quietly, turning back to the girl in the bed. Warming her cool hands in his. There's something in Alexis' voice, possibly guilt. He doesn't question it, he knows that in her case there's nothing he could say to change that feeling. The denial that anything is her fault would be meaningless coming from him.

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"I want to press charges!" That's all it took for them to have a cop in her hospital room. Ready to haul him away. She'd only just woken up and now she's in tears again begging her mother not to let them take him away. He knows he's telling her it will be okay, but the words come out too naturally. Like lying, he doesn't believe them. He couldn't make himself believe them even if her had wanted to.

They don't let him say goodbye, they don't let him hold her or even let her stop crying first...

They just take him away.

He hears the echo of footsteps heading for his cell. It doesn't scare or even intimidate him. If anything he feels numb, like none of this really matters. Like it's not happening to him.

"Your hearing will be in one week." It's not who he expects. He thought it would be Lucky or maybe even his father. But through the bars he sees Diane Miller, of all people. "I'm sorry to inform you that bail has been revoked, so I'm afraid you'll have to stay here until then."

"What's it to you?" He's not rude, he's genuinely curious.

"You beat a boy to death." She states bluntly. "If you hadn't, that young man might have done the same to Kristina. And it would be too late for the victims. Kristina is Sonny's daughter. I'm on Sonny's commission and he can be a very grateful man." She's connecting the dots for him like he's a child, and he'd be lying if he said it didn't irk him a little.

"Sonny sent you." Ethan knows it's an obvious conclusion, but he needs to say it. He needs there to be no misunderstanding.

She nods in acquiescence. "This isn't going to be easy. As we all know, the mayor is dirtier than a New York sewer rat. The Bauer's have plenty of money. They practically funded Garrett's entire campaign. They may be the only reason he is mayor." She pauses, as if this is the hardest fact he'll have to understand. "The mayor practically owns the PCPD, and he wants a scapegoat for all this mess."

"Does that mean I should be _bahaha_-ing?" She's a little thrown that he can be so cocky, with the charges he's facing. But she is THE Diane Miller, and no one surprises her.

"Only if you want to stay in this cell." With an all too natural regal wave of her hand, the guard comes to them. Unlocking the cell he leads both Diane and Ethan to a private interrogation room. He looks on complacently as the guard chains his hands to the table and goes so far as to pull Diane's chair out for her. The guard leaves without a word and Ethan waits for Diane to start explaining exactly how she thinks she can help him.

Not that he really believes anyone_ could_ help him at this point, but he's always been a curious kinda guy.

"We will be pleading temporary insanity." Her tone implies that there's no room for arguing with her and he doesn't try. In fact _temporary insanity _is the only term he thinks can describe what happened. "Evidence in our favor is the security tape, Kristina's confession naming your victim as her assailant and rapist, and lastly her testimony."

_Your victim_, she keeps babbling on about things he really has no interest in, even if they may be the key to his freedom. He only hears that small phrase. Nothing can make him sorry he killed Keifer. But he has to face the fact that he was the more advantageous in their battle.

He was physically larger. Most of his bulk coming from a lot of last resort bare-knuckle boxing games. He knows how to fight. And taking into consideration the ratio of how many wins to losses he's had in his lifetime, Ethan can be considered an excellent fighter. He had to be, most nights his life depended on those skills.

"I'll be needing several character witnesses on you're behalf." Diane's condescending voice finally breaks through his mental barrier. It takes a minute for him to recuperate and answer her implied question.

"Luke... Kristina and Lucky, maybe Lulu."

"Is that all?" She asks, her distaste obvious.

"I'm afraid I may have conned everyone else." His smile is cocky, borderline between joking and purely serious. She firmly believes she's above guessing which is real.

"I think I'll add Samantha McCall to the list."

"I haven't conned her." He adds with mock hope.

"Okay, you can't do that on the stand."

"Do what?"

"You have to appear remorseful, none of this cocky boy bull crap." He gives in, letting the smile fall and his posture slouch forward. "Better.." She says confidently.

Diane stays for hours but he doesn't mind. It's just more time he doesn't have to spend in that tiny cell. When she leaves he feels a little more confident than before, like maybe his whole life isn't being thrown down the garbage disposal.

Maybe.

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"You shouldn't be here." This time she's the one who says it. He's been rotting in the same cell for five days, he'd kill for a decent shower. He silently peers at her sideways from his cot. Nearly all of her bruises are gone, save for the one around her neck. The imprints of Keifer's fingers are no longer ugly blacks and purples, they've faded to pale violet and yellows.

It still makes his stomach turn to remember, every way that this guy hurt her. Any guilt he had about his physical advantages in their fight go flying out the window in that moment. She's standing there in a loose white blouse, the design purposefully hanging off one shoulder, and dark jeans. For a second he thinks she looks heavenly, but as is typical- he quickly erases the thought for something more G rated and friendly. She looks nice, that's as far as he'll go.

"Where should I be?" He asks, if only to have something to say, to break the quiet.

"Anywhere that isn't this cell." Her hands curl around the bars, she secretly hopes he'll get off the cot. Come over and tell her that he loves her, that he's always loved her and that everything will be okay.

"Well that makes one of you." He says, but doesn't move. He watches her though, the furrow of her brows as she observes him.

"I'm sorry about the other day. When you told me what happened, I should have handled it better."

He doesn't say its okay. He doesn't say he understands or that she was justified. He doesn't say anything at all. He just gazes at her with a look that makes her feel too exposed.

"Are you alright?" She asks hopefully, a last ditch effort to pull something out of him- anything...

"As good as can be expected." She has nothing to say to that. It's a statement that closes proverbial gates, leaving no room to spring board to something else. She can't leave though, she can't make her feet carry her back to her house. Where she's still unreasonably frightened. She hasn't felt safe since they first took Ethan away, not even after she'd accepted Keifer was dead.

Little things or nothing at all could make her jump out of her skin in fright.

Kristina presses her back against the bars of Ethan's cell, and slides down in defeat until she hits the ground softly. A heavy sigh breaks through her chest, disturbing the silence between them. She's tired of beating around the bush with him, dancing in circles around the issues between them. They never got a chance to hash out what happened before, when she found Ethan at the Haunted Star- drunk. The way she feels sometimes, the things he won't say.

She figures, now is as good a time as any. And no matter the outcome, she promises herself that she'll do everything she can to get Ethan out. Whether it involves her in his life afterward or not. She owes him that.

"Do you ever get that feeling, like you just want to sleep forever..." It's not really a question. She's telling him that's how she feels.

"Sometimes." Like when Rebecca left him for Nicolas, who ended up hurting her anyway.

"It felt like that when I was with Keifer. When he died. And when you're not around... That's how I feel. Like I don't want to be here anymore." He doesn't say anything, he just listens as she rambles on. "I'm not suicidal or anything, I don't think. I'm not- it's not something I've ever really thought about, it's just... I feel like that now. Like my life has suddenly become so empty, and just... too hard."

His eyes are focused above him, examining the cracks in the ceiling. The stains and peeling paint, all chipped and frayed. He wonders if that's what her heart looked like, on the verge of decimation. He chances a glance at her, the springs of the coat groan under his shifted weight. The dull fluorescent lighting illuminates a single hot tear on her left cheek, giving the look of a diamond. "I miss you..." She whispers, so low that if he hadn't been so close he wouldn't have heard her.

It takes him a moment, but soon he's on his knees on the floor just behind her. Reaching through the bars Ethan pulls one of her smaller hands into his. She doesn't resist. If the bars weren't there separating them she'd throw herself into his arms. Instead their forgiveness is quiet and calm, gentle and loving. "If you want me," He says, the mixture of shadows and light only making him more handsome to her eyes. "I'll be here."


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews last chapter, I always get a little giddy when I find a message in my inbox. Long commentary at the end but a bit spoilery if you don't watch GH everyday. This chappie starts of a little slow but I promise there's a goodie at the end [i added it as a thank you for your patience]**

**:]**

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"Did you kill Keifer Bauer on the evening of April 2nd?" The psychiatrist is calm and kind by the way he speaks, Ethan knows its a ruse to instill his trust. He's never been a fool for traps, especially ones he's pulled himself. But he'll answer anyway, cause he's has to. And he'll be honest because...maybe he wants to know the truth as much as everyone else.

"Yes."

"Do you recall what happened that night, specifically?" Ethan thinks back as far as he can, trying to focus the fuzzy imagery. He wasn't drunk that night, not legally anyway. Only he, the cops and Diane know that.

His eyes squint as he tries to roll through the film of his memories and narrate to the psychiatrist. "Kristina came to the Haunted Star, my fathers casino- I work there. She came to talk, I'd been distant for a few days and she wanted to know why..."

"Why had you been distant?"

Ethan doesn't want to tell this man too much, he might construe his and Kristina's friendship to mean more than it really does. He knows Diane would advise him strongly to hide that fact, and he agrees. So he maneuvers himself around the question with a vague explanation. "I'm not the best kind of man. I like to live my life by the skin of my teeth. I didn't think I was the kind of person she'd needed in her life. Especially not after Keifer."

"What happened then?"

"That was the day she was supposed to testify. She wanted me to be there..." The psychiatrist watches carefully at the way Ethan's body tenses and his hands fist in the side of his jeans. "I said no and she left."

"But you went after her didn't you?"

Ethan's eyes go glassy as he hones into this particular piece of memory, looking at nothing in particular. "I felt guilty after she left. I realized I was being a selfish friend, she needed me there. So I ran back outside to catch up with her, apologize to her. Make things right..."

"What did you see when you came outside?" His voice is so calm, it melds with the silence.

"I saw Keifer, he was kneeling on the ground." His throat constricts, like he felt what Kristina was feeling. "Then I noticed he was on top of her. Pinning her arms to the ground with his knees, sitting on her chest... his hands around her neck... He was going to kill her..."

"How did that make you feel?"

He takes a moment, searches for the words. "Absolute fury." Ethan looks down at his open hands resting in his lap, trying to remember. His mouth speaks without his mind telling him to. He feels like a puppet pouring out his biggest secret. "She feels like sand... That soft beach sand that feels like powder and air... Slipping through my fingers... no matter what I do she's always slipping away... I couldn't protect her." He's focused on his hands, all the things he's done with them... killed, loved, cared for.

"When you saw him, strangling her, what did you do?"

The memories become erratic then. Second long snippets flashing in his minds eyes, nothing really lucid. He's quiet for awhile, the psychiatrist is patient and they wait. Finally Ethan looks up at the other man in amazement. "I don't know." His eyes blink rapidly, a futile attempt to make the pictures clearer, more fluid. "I don't remember killing him, but I know I did. I don't remember if I meant to. I don't even remember when I stopped hitting him."

"What do you remember?"

"Seeing him there with her... and then being inside the casino. I was calling for an ambulance..."

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He sits on his high up pedestal. Cloaked in black and gray, his silver hair making him look like sage and bringer of death all in one. "How will the defendant plead?" The judge's voice booms through the hall, seemingly vibrating through Ethan's very skin. It unnerves him.

"Not guilty, on account of temporary insanity."

"Your client looks perfectly sane to me." The prosecutor says, her voice sounding gravely and sinister.

"_Temporary _insanity." Diane snaps. "I have confirmation tests from a trained psychiatrist."

"So be it, we will convene again tomorrow at 9 in the morning. Do not be late to my court room." There's the crack of his gavel and then they're taking him away again.

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"Dr. Jameson, what is your concluding diagnosis of Mr. Lovette for the time of the murder?" The court room is nearly empty. Save for the Bauer's and Kristina. They're like the same sides of magnets, repelling one another so as to never come in contact again. So that their lives will never intermingle again after this.

"I concluded that temporary insanity at the time of the murder was a correct diagnosis."

"What were the symptoms?" Diane presses the younger man further, reaching for the answers she wants.

"The most prominent was that Mr. Lovette admitted he could not recall the event as it occurred or several minutes there after. And the mental state of the defendant as I asked him to describe it vividly to me."

"Nothing further." She concludes before walking back to sit beside Ethan. He shifts the cuffs around his wrists, trying to soothe the red marks they leave behind.

The prosecutor stands from behind her desk confidently and approaches Dr. Jameson like a snake. "Dr. Jameson, did the defendant show any remorse as you interviewed him?"

"It was minimal and subtle, but yes. In my professional opinion the defendant exhibited remorse."

"Could Mr. Lovette have simply researched the symptoms beforehand and exhibited them during the interview to provide a favorable diagnosis from you?"

"Objection! Leading the witness." Diane yells, nearly leaping from her chair.

"Sustained." Drifts the judge's uninterested voice.

"I'll rephrase." She knots her hands together. "Could Mr. Lovette have faked the diagnosis?"

Ethan sees what this is now. The way they move, sharp and focused. The way they talk, careful precise. It's a game to the people who's live their lives here. Not really what's right or wrong, but who's the winner and who is the loser.

"Possibly-"

"Thank you." She cuts him off, but he speaks anyway before she can stop him.

"The physical reactions were there, in my opinion it was not falsified."

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Every time before they take him back to his cell, he looks for her. Down through the pantheon of glossy wooden benches. Most of them often empty. She's always in the back, worry evident across her face every time they take him back to his cell with no verdict. But her reassuring smile never fails to meet his gaze afterward, even if she doesn't feel it. She'll smile at him, silently telling him that everything will be okay. One way or another.

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"I'd like to introduce evidence 882- C. Surveillance footage from the Haunted Star on the evening of April 2nd."

It's been six days. Each day they take him back, it gets harder and harder not to plot an escape. It gets more and more difficult for him to leave her behind. He listens indistinctly as the prosecutor poses no objection and the bailiff wheels in television on a rickety old cart.

Diane pulls the familiar little silver disc from it's evidence bag and puts it into the player. A black and white image appears on the screen. Kristina walking outside, wiping at her tears, and then Keifer... And as Ethan watches he finds he can't breathe, because he's not watching Keifer...

He's watching Kristina.

He's waiting to see her fight back on the modest sized screen, he's holding his breath waiting for it. For her to hit back, slap him, spit on him... anything. But the screen-version of her just takes it. Blow after blow, she doesn't even try. He can't watch anymore, and he can't really explain the feeling that he's been betrayed.

Diane pauses the screen, Keifer frozen on top of Kristina. "Yes, my client may have killed this boy. This boy who is strangling the life out of a young woman. Forcing her to be submissive to him." She slams the remote against the surface of the desk with a resounding clatter for emphasis, "And it was **not**the first time... But thanks to my client, it was the last time."

The prosecutor rises from her seat with all the false confidence she can muster, taking the remote from Diane she asks the judge if she can play the rest of the disk, "To show exactly how the defendant made it 'the last time.'"

The judge nods and she presses the play button. It's not long before Ethan sees himself on screen. Pounding his fists into Keifer. He sees the moment his fist strikes to fast, snapping the younger boy's neck... It makes Ethan sick to see himself doing that, he blinks his eyes... Hoping the picture will change. But it doesn't, and the prosecutor makes a stable position that Ethan didn't need to kill Keifer to stop him.

"True. But it wasn't a decision, my client never intended to kill Keifer Bauer. Indeed, he didn't even realize he had until detectives notified him upon arrival." Diane defends but she can't protect Ethan from himself...

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"They read the verdict tomorrow." She's been standing outside his cell for awhile now. He knows she's there, but he can't bring himself to be normal. To act like nothing happened today. "Diane made a strong case, there's no way they can convict you..."

She tries to comfort him but he won't let her. He remains silent. "Why won't you talk to me?" She asks desperately, he can't make his mouth work. He's unsure how to form the words. Suddenly she's reaching through the bars, her fingertips graze his shoulder. In a flash he's standing. Grasping her hand to his, refusing to let her run away once he asks the question that may tear them apart for sure.

"Why didn't you fight back?" Kristina can hear the thick sound of betrayal in his voice as he asks. She tries to pull away, but his hand is firm around hers though careful not to hurt. It's not question she wants to answer. She's not even confident she has the answer.

"Why didn't you fight back?" He asks again, pulling her closer through the bars. His eyes are intense as they watch her, burning through all her barriers. Searching for the answer. "I know you know how... so tell me why, please." And it's like he's begging for an answer that might make the fact more bearable.

She didn't want to stay in this world anymore. Even if that meant leaving everyone she ever loved behind.

Even if it meant leaving him behind...

Her body loosens, no longer preparing to struggle and run away. She lets him pull her closer, so that she can feel his warm breath on her face. And he can hold her, like he had before.

"I was so tired of fighting. I thought... that if he didn't kill me then, he'd always be around to try... No one could protect me before... I thought, who could protect me now? No one. I already proved that I couldn't protect myself." She pauses, fisting her free hand in his collar. "And that scared me to death." She whispers through her ears.

"I_ need _you here, how could you think that any of us could survive without you here." He presses his lips to the crown of her head, breathing in the sweet clean smell of her hair. "I will always be here to protect you... But you can't leave, you can't go away." He touches his lips to the tracks her tears leave down her cheeks, until he's hovering just before her lips. "Promise me?"

She can taste his breath, feel the thrum of his heart under her palm. And she can feel the truth of his promise in the way has hand clasps around hers. "I promise..." Her voice comes out like it's the last, a whisper so quiet he almost didn't hear it.

Then his mouth is on hers, it's gentle and fervent at the same time. Beautiful and a little terrifying, only because her heart is flying out of her chest like she's on a roller coaster. His mouth is soft as it slides over hers, tasting her lips and sending smoldering butterflies to the pit of her stomach.

It's like pushing the last piece of the puzzle into place, or figuring out the answer at the last second. Thrilling and so perfect he wonders why it took him so long to get here. Why he ever denied that this is exactly where he's always belonged.

She forgets to breathe, but she can't let even though her lungs feel like their going to explode. She can't let go, because this... this is everything she's been looking for. This feeling, that Ethan's entire being is encompassing her entire being.

It's over too soon, as he gently eases them apart. Both breathing heavily, Neither of them expected it to feel like that. And when she finally leaves it's only because visiting hours are over and the guard was on the verge of having to remove her himself. Ethan's motivation is renewed, he needs to get out. If only to be with her, for real...

**A/N: Sorry this took so long. I had exams and quizzes everyday last week and went on a surprise camping trip this past weekend. Anyway, did anybody else totally love that little Kristina/Ethan moment at the HS when she FINALLY apologized to him. I don't like Kristina on screen, but I still have high hopes for them in future. Even if they end up being each other 3rd wife/husband. Just so long as it happens. I really didn't like Maya (sp?) at first cause it looked like they might pair her with Ethan and I was all 'Oh hell no!'. But now it looks like she might steal Lucky away from Liz, so I like her a little more but she still needs to get off that high horse. Sorry if some of you are fans, we're all allowed our opinion. Feel free to express it as long as your mature about it :) **

**-ace**


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: So yeah, saying that this took awhile is an understatement. And for that I'm very sorry. I went through about four different scenarios for this story, because it is coming to an end soon I went with this one. And I know it probably going to be the least popular. Again I apologize. Also, it's difficult writing for a soap opera. The story is changing at this rapid pace and there are all those other story lines to consider because in reality they do affect one another so I've tried to steer clear of other story lines- save for Jasam cause I love them so much. Also, no longer a Lante or Luante fan.

Also the part about Kristina knowing better than every adult around her is said with massive amounts of sarcasm. And the last thing Kristina says was inspired by the song "Light Outside" by Wakey!Wakey!. But the chapter itself was written to the tune of "Hide and Seek" by Imogen Heap [and yes I know it's actually about divorce but I just don't care].

Anyway as always, I hope you enjoy.

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He hates this.

The waiting.

He's a con artist, patience should be his greatest virtue. But then again, patience isn't even really a part of it, now is it. Patience is waiting for the right moment to strike. Patience is dealing through five or six hands, losing his shirt in the process, until he's finally got his opponent- and their wallet- under his thumb. Patience is a matter of will and perseverance.

Waiting to be told if he's a killer or not. Though deep down- even if he can't outright say it- he knows he is. Waiting to be told if he'll ever see the light of day unmarred by prison bars and prison concrete. Waiting to be told if he'll ever get the chance to know _her_, if they will ever get to experience the myriad of emotions that comes with discovering exactly what this is between them.

No, definitely not patience.

Not now.

Now he was on the business end of the judicial gun. He was the one sweating and unsure, terrified of his fate. He can handle prison life, he's been in foreign prisons and at the mercy drug lords and their thugs- no state prison could ever compare to those tortures.

Diane had him cut his hair, just below his ears, and stuffed him into a dark blue suit that itched like crazy. He didn't even feel like himself, but maybe that was a good thing. If he were himself they might convict him simply for that.

He looked around the room for the thousandth time and strung his fingers through his inky hair for the hundredth time- waiting to see her encouraging face. Waiting for them to decide to tie the noose 'round his neck and let that be the end of it...

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"This isn't fair!" She's yelling. She's never yelled at her mother before, the guilt eating away at her like fire does with paper. "He's expecting me to be there... I _need_ to be there."

"I don't think it's a good idea, Kristina. Your becoming far too attached to one another." Alexis doesn't hate Ethan, she couldn't be more grateful to the man. But that was just it, he was a man... and in spite of all intents and purposes Kristina was still a girl, a teenager.

Being her hero simply didn't change any of that.

"I need to be there, mom." She says again, a little more meekly; a little more respectfully. As if she can't understand how her mother can't see how that changes any and all perceptions.

"He's _twenty-three_ years old, Kristina. Your only seventeen and you've just gone through something very traumatic." Alexis is firm on this stance. "You need time and space." But Kristina is seventeen with lethal genetic doses of pertinacity, she knows much better than any advice her mother could ever give. She is, after all, almost a legal adult in the eyes of the law. With this final thought Kristina pushes past Alexis, pure conviction burning away any and all guilt or reason.

Alexis lets her go, like sanity and rational decisions. Kristina was becoming more and more like her father everyday, and it terrified her to acknowledge that fact.

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"We the jury find the defendant, Ethan Lovette, guilty on one count of involuntary manslaughter."

"Mr. Lovette, you are sentenced to one year in prison and mandatory anger management classes while you are thus took a life Mr. Lovette, no matter who may have been saved in the process, and considering your crime your punishment is extremely lenient. I give you this sentence in the belief that you are not a cruel man by nature and that I will never have to see you as defendant in my court again."

Ethan can't do any more than nod dejectedly, he feels dumbstruck. He'd allowed himself to hope for... freedom. And now that he was staring the truth in the face. Of what he'd done, how he'd done it... he sees he's been fooling himself.

Who would let a killer free?

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_Mr. Lovette, you are sentenced to one year in prison_...

Thats all she hears from the moment her feet pass the threshold of the courtroom. And it just freezes her entire body into stillness, even her body rejecting this outcome. Her eyes fall to Ethan, whose head is hung heavy- studying the ground like it can give him answers. A cloud of defeat attempting encompass him- engulf him. It breaks her heart, in every sense the cliche had ever been used- she felt it...

When the judge finishes his speech it propels Kristina forward, toward Ethan.

Like somehow... maybe... she can make it not true. Like maybe, just for a moment she could wake them both from this nightmare.

The bailiff, in his ugly tan uniform and five dollar hair cut, is putting cuffs around Ethan's wrists- silver glaring manacles like claws. "Wait!" She calls out before they can take him away again. And she vows, albeit unknowingly- that it will be the last time they do. "Wait!" They all stop the second time, eyes and ears on this tiny thing trying to stop the world from turning- to stop time from going on. But she keeps running forward despite their pinning stares. Even when she reaches him their still separated, by the bailiff and Diane's temporary desk.

It feels like miles and mountains.

Once she's there she isn't entirely sure what to say. So she blurts out, "I'll come see you at the PCPD, I'll be there before they take you." There's a shakiness to her voice that he can't ignore, she's scared.

And suddenly the thought of her in a prison terrifies him. Even just to visit him, she didn't belong in world like that. A place filled with a hundred Keifer's and guards who would ogle her. She was strong, but she didn't deserve to put up with that. She'd been through too much already, he knew that better than anyone.

"Kristina-" He jerks forward on impulse but is held in place by the bailiff's firm hand. It takes a moment of nonverbal begging between Ethan and the other man, but the cuffs are eventually removed- albeit reluctantly.

He takes the few steps that close the distance between them, raising his hands to either side of face- curling in the soft locks of hair at his fingertips. She lays her hands over his wrists, a futile attempt to hold him there for forever. "Listen to me...really listen to me." He says desperately and quietly. And for once in her life she does listen. Because it's Ethan, and there's nothing she wouldn't do for him- come hell or high water and all those cheesy promises. "Don't come Kris. Not to the PCPD. Not to the prison." He swallows hard against the lump in his throat- this being the hardest decision he's ever had to make. "Don't wait for me."

"What?" Tears are already choking her, ready to spill at anything he says- good or bad, right or wrong.

"I love you Kris. You need to know that much, that I love you." He swipes his thumb slowly over her cheek, brushing away a river of warm tears. "But you can't wait for me. I can't ask you to do that. I won't let you."

"I want to-" She tries, but like all her attempts before- its like sand slipping through her fingers or trying to stop her body from breathing.

"I'm asking you, please Kristina..." She won't deny him, sometimes she wonders why she even tries. So instead of saying yes or no, or giving him anything definitive, she slides her hands up from his wrists to either side of is face. Feeling the stubble scrape the pads of her fingers and the contrasting softness of his skin. She watches him for moment, her eyes tracing every line and feature, trying to memorize every hue before she tugs his mouth to hers. And the comfort she feels when he embraces her just as strongly is indescribable- like being home.

He can't explain how beautiful he thinks she is, when she looks at him like that just before.

Like she's amazed, seeing something in him he has yet to realize was ever there.

Or when she kisses him like this...

Like she's not just in love, but that she's put all her trust with him. And he hates that he has to leave, because who will protect her now? He hasn't known her for that long but he's done a better job of protecting her than any other man has in her life- she told him so.

Slowly he realizes the kiss is different, salty and wet. One of them is crying, or maybe both. He doesn't know. It's not even really a kiss anymore, it's just them pressing into one another. Burning and etching memories of the other into their minds. "I'll write to you." She says against his lips, her voice thick with tears- her nose and lips red like she'd been out in the cold for an hour.

"Don't let me take over your life." He says earnestly, his forehead pressed to hers. He's watching her, but her eyes are closed- as though she's talking to him in her sleep.

"You can't make me forget you." She whispers. "You saved my life once... I think I always knew you would." He presses his lips to hers one last time, keeping his eyes on her.

They don't say anything after that, because she said it all without having to really say it. And when they untangle themselves and the bailiff pulls him away behind those large doors- like the gates to hell in _Dante's Inferno_- it suddenly becomes all to real. She clutches her arms around her tiny fragile frame, as if she were trying to keep the experience from tearing her to shreds. And when Diane pulls Kristina into her arms like a temporary mother, she can't hold back the sobs that rack through her body and echo through the empty court room.

She doesn't know how long she cried for, or when exactly it was that she fell asleep on Diane's lap- said woman's fingers combing through her hair awkwardly but still comfortingly. She doesn't question the few seconds that she wakes up in Max's arms- the world moving in the backdrop- flashing back to when she was a little girl who'd fallen asleep at her fathers house once. So long ago when she was naive and carefree. Before she'd hurt anyone, taken anything, or been hurt by someone...

She falls back to sleep, pretending just for a moment before falling into the abyss, that she is that little girl again.

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A/N: Let me know what you think please!


	10. Chapter 10

_I tremble, I tremble_

_They're gonna eat me alive_

_If I stumble_

_They're gonna eat me alive_

_Can you hear my heart_

_Beating like a hammer_

_Beating like a hammer..._

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The transient music flows through everything, shaking and rocking the barriers, like a warning sound. Strobe lights illuminate her skin like shooting stars across a night sky as she moves among the mass of shapeless bodies, the black close-fitting dress glitters so that everything about her looks alive. Like water or fire she flickers on the dance floor below him and he can't help but be taken- drinking in her very essence that had long been absent from his life. He takes a heavy sip from his glass as the tempo rises, and she moves accordingly. Her eyes are heavy lidded and he can tell she's not really there, in the club, her mind is elsewhere and she is beautiful.

The last of the drink burns its way down his throat as he works up the courage to speak to her.

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**2 AND A HALF YEARS EARLIER:**

As his mother used to say Ethan was never very good a keeping his nose clean, so his extended sentence in prison is no real surprise to anyone, except maybe one. But even her he couldn't be sure about. When he was taken into custody he wasn't sent to Pentonville, as it was nearing maximum capacity. Instead he is sent to a minimum security prison on the outskirts of Perry, New York. Almost six hours away.

His father makes the journey now and then, but more often Nikolas or Lucky will come in his place... Lulu is the only one who comes regularly. Every sunday afternoon like clockwork. Sometimes she brings food from Kelly's, though the first few times it was either cold or stale by the time she made it to the prison, since then she'd purchased a special container that hooked up to the cigarette lighter in her car. In spite of all her own problems she never missed a day. She usually stayed for a few hours, to make the drive really worth it. She'd update him while they shared the meal she brought. Though he ate most of it as she picked at it like a bird, if only to appease him when he said eating while she watched and talked made him feel awkward and rude.

At first they didn't have much to talk about, he knew mostly everything as Kristina would write to him daily. She'd write bits throughout her day, between classes and sometimes during. And at the end of the day when the sky grew dark and the wind would pick up she'd walk them to the primitive little mailbox that stood weathered but proud at the end of the long dusty lane to her lake house. She'd tell him everything, not just about herself but things she heard about his family but his favorite was when she told him what she was thinking or when she'd recall a moment they'd had together, and he'd get to see it through her eyes instead of his own.

Those letters are the most faded, he'd re-read them so often to himself that the ink was bleached by his fingertips and the paper itself felt as thin as a tissue. He never wrote back...

She'd written consistently for a few months with no response, which was diligent of her and, he thought, rather impressive. But slowly the letters came further and further apart until they stopped coming altogether. That was the hardest part, when he'd bug the mail guy like an idiot everyday for weeks, asking if there were any letters for him but to no avail.

Eventually Lulu caught on to the reason for his sober mood when she let slip that Kristina had graduated early and Ethan's eyes immediately came back into focus, something bittersweet lurking just beneath the surface. So she talks to Sam more often when she's home, gathering news about Kristina, and casually relaying it back to Ethan as though Kristina were simply another inhabitant of Port Charles who was being reported on, and not someone who he...

It's this way that he founds out that in addition to graduating early, she'd also been excepted into Yale. That she took a semester abroad, to where he still doesn't know. And that it had been awhile since she'd been back to Port Charles. That every time she bumped into Lulu, she'd ask about him. If he was okay.

He had wanted to write back more than anything. To tell her how he missed her, and how he thought about her all the time. He wanted to joke around with her, play a simple game of poker... But the longer he stayed the harder it was to keep himself apart from her life, he had to remind himself everyday that she was better off.

His sentence is extended when he runs low on trading supplies- Luke went on a month long binge to God-knows-where, leaving Ethan with nothing to trade for protection- and he gets crap kicked out of him by some very angry bastards. The second fight he gets in, Ethan ends up temporarily crippling another inmate. It just all kind of went downhill from there. He'd be a liar if he said he didn't panic a little when they threw him in solitary for a week. He'd heard some went crazy after a few days while others hardly noticed the difference. He was lucky, slept for most of it and convinced himself everyday that he was sane. That all of this was no big deal.

They release him a few months later after that.

Lulu, ever the faithful sister, is waiting to take him home when he walks past the automated gates of the prison. The drive back is long and he sleeps the whole way. Mike, as an inadvertent thank you for defending Kristina way back when, offers him a room over the diner until he can get back on his feet. His job at the Haunted Star is still waiting for him and in that moment it feels like very little has changed. Like waking up from a dream, the heavy past only a few hours behind him.

The only real difference is that certain people are more careful at the sight of him while others look at him more fondly and thank him. Kristina's absence is notable as well. But maybe its because he dreamed so often that the day he would be released he'd somehow run into her or- if he's honest with himself- that she'd have been the one waiting for him outside the gates instead of his sister. But it takes days for Mike to let something slip, Ethan hadn't had the courage to ask anyone- afraid that maybe she'd run off to Paris or Greece. Or worse, that she'd gotten over him...

Michael walks in from the summer heat one afternoon to pick up some food and strikes up a conversation with Mike. Mike greets his grandson with a tight hug and through they're pleasantries Ethan catches a mention of her in Michael's story. "... Yeah, picked up Krissy this morning from the airport. We're, uh, surprising dad with a lunch slash dinner sort of thing. Your welcome to join us its ..."

But Ethan didn't get to hear the rest. He was too busy feeling too much all at once. His heart lifted at the prospect of having her so close but his head brought the rest of him back down to earth- and perhaps lower. He'd let go of her because prison and what he knew he was becoming simply weren't good enough for. Who he was and ho he lived his life just didn't leave room for someone like her, someone important. Now that he was out he wasn't sure it changed anything between them. Or if it even mattered what he wanted, would she still want him?

"Ethan!" Mike's voice called him from his reverie so that he nearly dropped the mug he'd been drying for the past ten minutes.

"Yeah?" Mike tossed a set of keys to him and smiled.

"Lock up for me will ya?" Ethan nodded, tight lipped and oddly relieved as the old man walked out of Kelley's after his grandson. Maybe being tethered to the diner for the night would keep him from wondering to all her old haunts, hoping to casually bump into her. Ethan tucked the keys into his pocket and set to work on the rest of the mugs dripping monotonously in the sink.

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At eleven thirty he'd chased the last caffeine bum from the place but it wasn't until well past midnight that he'd finished clean up and prepared to head upstairs for a drink. Ethan pauses at the steps, surrounded by darkness when he thinks quietly that there is nothing more depressing than drinking alone his temporary room thinking about a girl from his past. Resigned he turns back toward the door, pulling his lather jacket from the rack as he goes and twisting the key in the lock behind him.

He walks until he comes to the nearest bar but before he can even twist the knob Johnny Zacarra comes walking out, the strut that let everyone know not only did he own the room he had the power to kill you and make it look like an accident if you got on his bad side. Johnny smiles and stretches out his hand toward Ethan, "I heard you'd got out, how've you been?"

"Decent, working at Kelley's. Mike's lending me the place upstairs."

"That's great. Hey come have a drink with me."

"Yeah sure." Ethan starts to head into the bar Johnny just vacated before the other man stops.

"Oh no, not this dump." Ethan laughs because he knows the so called 'dump' is a small piece of Johnny's territory. "No, just revamped the old club. Gotta check and make sure things are running smoothly."

"Doesn't hurt to get a bit smashed while doing so?"

Johnny laughs knowingly as he'd done it once or twice before. "More or less."

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**A/N:** _I'm so sorry the update to so freaking long and that its so short. I really do apologize, I thought the summer free time would be all I needed but unfortunately the creative juices just would not flow. So I hope you liked it. I promise I will not abandon this fic! On a few side notes this fic is going to focus solely on Kristina and Ethan as much as I can manage. Outside story lines are just too much to keep up with much less incorporate into this AU fic. So if you have any questions just leave it in a PM or a review and I'll respond to clarify._


	11. Chapter 11

And that's how he'd ended up there.

A scotch in his hands as he watches her dance from the balcony of a high end club, probably the only in the smallest damn town in the world. He'd barely made it through his second drink before he realized the vision he'd honed in on the dance floor, the one among the mass of bodies that managed to hypnotize him with an unusual tinge of familiarity, was none other than Kristina Davis. Or Corinthos, depending on who you talked to.

It seemed insane. That after days of hoping to see her, hoping to bump into her at one of her old haunts... The one day that he tries get away from her... there she is. Waiting for him it seemed. They kept getting pulled together like that. Like magnets, unbidden and inescapable. It kind of scared him.

He twists the empty glass in his hands, content with just watching her. Trying discern in the darkness how much she'd changed. And she had, something in her had changed so drastically since they'd last spoken. The fact that she was in the club at all spoke volumes, but to what end he couldn't say. Maybe it was that her skin was a shade darker, or that she no longer dressed to hide bruises- maybe it was that for the first time in a long time she had no scars or markings to speak of. Not on the surface anyway.

Suddenly she'd opened her eyes, meeting his gaze dead on from the floor below him. The air stilled in his chest as she froze on the dance floor, her face tilted upward at him. Even from a distance he could see the tear that slipped down her cheek like a small diamond as her expression melded from one of awe and incredulity to a frown before she turned away and practically ran for the back exit. He had no choice but to go after her, waving at a confused Johnny as he left. He took the stairs two at a time, surely only escaping broken bones by pure miracle. But he kept going. Weaving through people as best he could to try and catch up with her.

When he barrels through the back door mere seconds behind her, Ethan is surprised to see that somehow he's ended up in a relatively deserted back alley. Even more so to see that she'd stopped running. She stood with her back pressed against the far wall, a curtain of curls framing her breathless face. Though her brown eyes pierce him to the spot, laces of accusation and maybe... relief?

"You're real." She says with an air of surprise.

"Yeah." He breathes, unsure what else he should say. So instead he steps toward her until there's less than a foot between them. Though the tension in that small space felt thick like enormous wire chords that refused to be cut.

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His voice swept over Kristina like warm summer waves. She wanted to curl up inside them and let it carry her away. She hadn't realized how long it had been since she'd heard his voice. Her own little safe harbor in the storm that had been her life. How long had it been since he'd looked at her like that, like she was all he could see. All he cared about. She felt seduced by the mere presence of him, by everything she knew that he was.

She wanted to tell him how she missed him every single day that he was gone, even if she'd convinced herself and everyone else otherwise. She wanted to scream at him for abandoning her in the end. But more than anything she wanted him to pull her into the warmth of his arms, to feel the way he breathe her in when he'd hold her. To finally, after years of tortured dreams and constantly wondering, know what his skin felt like on hers.

"Kris?" His voice broke through her thoughts and the silence around them.

It shook her from her reverie, she'd been about to abandon everything she'd worked so hard at for the past two years. That Ethan Lovette was just a nice guy who'd saved her life once. Nothing more. He didn't want to be friends and certainly nothing more. She'd only made a fool of herself chasing him all that time. She was done with that, and other than civil pleasantries she was done with Ethan as well. She didn't want or need him anymore. "I'm glad your out, but I need to get home."

And so without another word, or before he could even argue, she'd spun on her heel and headed down the alley toward the street. The resounding clicking of her heels meshing with the sounds just beyond the street. She took comfort in that sound that never slept. Cars driving past and the voices that sometimes spilled from the radio through their open windows. The static like chatter of people on the sidewalks, the occasional bark of a dog being walked before bedtime.

She hailed a cab immediately and was almost disappointed when she realized he hadn't gone after her. Kristina looked back down the darkened alley, only to see him still standing there. Motionless but watching her, his mouth open slightly as if he had wanted to say something.

It made her want to cry as the cab drove her away.

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Ethan watched her go. He had wanted to go after her, but something held him back. Maybe it the desperation in her that seemed to need to get away. Though it struck a painful chord in him that it was him she was trying to get away from. Still, he wanted desperately to know what she was thinking now that they had met again after all this time. Had she thought of him too, more than just in passing? Had she found someone else?

But most importantly, he needed to know if she was okay.

Or if the scars Keifer had left had lasted even until now, beneath the surface. Was she still afraid? Did the memories still haunt her? It twisted his insides to even think that she might still be afraid after all this time. That she might still be in pain from what had happened.

He pushes his hands into his pockets and ponders going back in to drink some more, but that hardly ever proved to have anything more than temporary results. He more often than not woke up with a hangover and something stupid marring his already fringed moral fiber. No, instead he follows her lead. Walking out to the street he hails a cab and heads back to Kelley's for the night.

He watches the familiar scenery drip past him like wet paint. Smearing comfort across his chest at their vague shapes. Port Charles was never the kind of place he thought would keep calling him back. He used to think he could leave any place or person behind and never look back. He used to think life wasn't meant for attachments, that they only held you back from all the real pleasures in life. But the longer he stayed, the more he was being proven wrong. He'd found a family here. And not just a long lost parent but a crazy, feuding, loving family. He'd found _her_ here. The one girl in his life who had him so confused about things he'd always been so cynically sure about.

He hands the cabbie a twenty when they jerk to a stop outside Kelly's, "Keep the change." As he heads up the stairs the drugging feeling of sleep and two glasses of scotch weighing his limbs all along the way.

She's there in his dreams when his head hits the pillow, waiting for him like always. He dreams of kissing her, though the memory was so faded and worn it hardly seemed like a memory at all, but more like a film playing on a screen in his head. Distant and removed. He'd forgotten what it felt like to kiss her, the way she'd made him into a piece of her when she did and vice versa. He could swear that piece of her was still inside his heart somewhere, sleeping. Waiting to be woken up by the real thing.

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Kristina navigated herself carefully through the bushes below her bedroom window, cautious not to snag her new and very expensive dress. Sure her parents would buy her anything she wanted, even now but sometimes she got more of a thrill buying her own things with her own money. Something gratifying to reward herself with when she aced an exam or finished a project ahead of time.

She stopped halfway waved her foot slowly over the soft dirt until the tip of shoe nudged the end of the small crowbar she kept buried there. Dusting it off she pries open her already unlocked window silently, making noise only in her struggle to hop over the ledge and inside. With a heavy sigh Kristina locks the window behind her and pulls the fake ID from her bra. She stares at the plane-jane name and the date of birth that isn't hers. Kristina sometimes wonders that if she were that girl, would anything be different?

Knowing that it wouldn't matter either way she tosses it into the drawer her nigh stand before slipping the black sequin mini dress over her head and into a shimmering puddle on the soft cream-colored carpet. Too distracted to do anything else she slips under the thick comforter, her mind flooded with thoughts of one Ethan Lovette.

It seemed harmless, in the cover of night and the privacy of her mind. But she wondered about him. She hadn't expected to feel like this seeing him again, she'd spent so much time trying to convince everyone else that she didn't care about him that way anymore that she'd even fooled herself. But seeing him there in the club, watching her with dark burning eyes. It set her skin on fire in a whole knew way. God, how she had missed him.

In all honesty she had expected. after all that had happened, that he'd never want to come back to Port Charles. She almost hadn't. She'd convinced herself that it was pure chance that her summer plans fell through but deep down she knew the truth. Michael had let it slip none too casually that Ethan had finally been let out of prison. She'd come back secretly hoping for even a glimpse. That that would be enough and then she could let it go forever.

And she wanted to, she desperately wanted to be able to just let him go like he'd let go of her. To be able to just thank him and carry on with her life. But she just couldn't. Every boy that came along just... couldn't compare. She wanted to care about them but after Ethan they never stood a fighting chance. He'd saved her life from and Kiefer and her own self-destructive depression. He was literally her hero. In more ways than just that he'd destroyed the villain in her story, he was kind and caring. He didn't treat her like a child the way her parents, and sometimes even Michael, did. And he'd been the complete opposite of Keifer. Where Kiefer had been cruel and controlling, Ethan had been warm and kind. He'd made her forget that she'd ever been a victim, he'd made her hope again.

"I miss you." She whispered into the empty room, hoping somehow the sentiment would secretly find Ethan wherever he was.


	12. Chapter 12

How do you say hello again to someone it took you months to say goodbye to? How could she even begin to walk into that moment again, that life that seemed miles away now as she spied him cleaning tables though the window at Kelly's. And yet it was all so close. Every bone in her body screaming for him, begging her to give in.

The past was staring her in the face, she could lie to herself any more. Pretend that it was dream or simply someone else's life. Kristina takes a deep breath before pushing the door open as bravely as she can. The bell on the door _tings_ deafeningly in the silence, and his head snaps up toward her.

She exhales, he was more beautiful that she remembered. More beautiful than she could have distinguished in the dark and din of last night.

"Hey." He says softly after what feels like an eon of silence.

Instead of exchanging the pleasantry he goes straight for the jugular... of her own pride that is. "I'm sorry for running away last night. It was just such..."

"Such a shock?" He offers carefully, his mouth tilting into his trademark roguish smile. Its small but she has to fight that butterflies that threaten to fill her stomach and burst through her chest.

"Yeah." Kristina shifts her gaze to the air beside his face, attempting to look at him without really looking at him. Anything to keep her from falling back into old patterns. "How've you been?"

"Good." He lies quickly, nervously. "And you? I heard your going to Yale..."

"I'm good. Yale is good."

A cloud of silence falls between them again before Ethan asks, his voice blatantly hopeful. "How long are you staying?"

Without thinking she looks him straight in the eyes as she answers, and it like he's hooked her in and she can't possibly look anywhere else. "Just for the summer, until August."

"I guess I came back just in time then." She doesn't know how to take his words, even less what to say in response.

She decides the truth is best, and in all honesty she really just wanted to cut through the bullshit and stop analyzing every little thing he did in minute detail until drove her insane. "I'm glad your out, but honestly things have changed since you left."

"Are you seeing someone?" He asks boldly, his face fallen.

"No, no. It's not that, nothing like that. Its just... I think we should leave the past in the past. That it would be best if we were just friends."

"Oh, yeah. Of course." He pauses watching her carefully as he tries not to let on how depressed he suddenly felt. "Well, what better way to cement this friendship- than with a cup of coffee? On the house." He adds when her eyes become hesitant. Slowly she smiles and he finds himself smiling right back. Well, if he couldn't have her like a lover... than he thinks friendship is better than nothing. Better than he hating him.

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"... I cleaned them out!" She cries proudly, recounting a very strange first night on campus in which she had gotten turned around in the dorms and somehow happened upon a midnight poker game. Of course, she ended up taking them for all they had, a mere six hundred and thirty-two dollars to her. _Cushion-cash_ she called it. Her father had spent more than that on her birthday gift. A winter selection of Manolo Blahnik's, courteously selected by one Diane Miller. Though she'd never really told anyone that. She may have been spoiled once but she had never stooped so low as to flaunt her inherited wealth. "All thanks to you... before you I would have never even thought to learn to play, let alone play well."

He laughs, more happy than anything to know that she wasn't as damaged as he'd left her. "Those poor bastards, if you had them at your mercy than I am a very proud master."

Her smile widens and he adds that to the list of things that have changed about her. Her hair is several shades darker and several inches longer. Her skin is light but still warmer somehow, or perhaps that was her smile which sometimes seemed entirely unburdened and natural. Like she was genuinely happy and not like before, when she'd smiled purely to entice him or other boys. Because then she had thought that was what they wanted. Then what all she cared about.

"You seem happier." He says leaning back, as if examining the bigger picture of her. All of her.

She looks down shyly, a single delicate finger dancing along the rim of her cup. Thick brown tendril falling forward to frame her more defined face. Baby-cheeks only a ghost under the skin that once was shades of purple and blue. "I am." She says breathlessly. "I am so happy."

A thought occurs to him, that maybe what she had needed all along was for him to leave her alone. To go away. She sees his face fall a little, lost in his thoughts for a brief moment. So she adds quickly, truthfully, "You have no idea how good it is to see you."

"You sure about that?" He asks, eyeing her skeptically. "I'm not just a reminder of what happened to you."

"It happened to you too." Kristina says sadly, still gazing at him through heavy eyes. So many things she couldn't bring herself to stay still fluttering beneath the surface.

"Don't do that." He mutters, forcing himself to look away.

"Do what?" She asks, suddenly worried that she'd said something wrong.

"Feel sorry for me." He says exasperatedly, and somewhat unexpectedly. She watches as Ethan rakes his hands through his hair, obviously debating something silently in his head. "I'm not sorry for what I did to get sent to prison." He adds softly, not entirely sure if he means it. Though Kristina knows he does, and somehow that thick truth has always sat like a ball of rust deep inside her chest. She stares down into her empty cup, silent. And just like that he'd made it awkward again.

"I wish we could just start over..." She says so softly he doesn't know if she means for him to hear.

"Me too..." He pauses, thinking, well if hey were already there- in the tangled mess of the past- he may as well start asking the serious questions. The way he would have before, cutting through all the bullshit to get to the honest to God truth. Whether she wanted to be with him or not, he silently promised he would never stop being there for her. "Are you okay? Like really okay?"

Kristina thinks on that for a few moments, not surprised at Ethan's forwardness. Though on the surface it was an incredibly vague question, she knew what he meant and it was still a question no one but her therapist had ever asked before. And until now she'd never felt more compelled, or more willing, to just be honest. "Sometimes I think I am." She had never been able to open anyone after it had all happened, not even the therapist her parents had sent her too. The woman may have asked but Kristina had never answered. And so they had only been able to guide her through it, give the typical pamphlet pointers on how to go on with her life. "At first I saw him everywhere, I had nightmares that he'd come back. Nightmares that he killed you instead... Walking down the street sometimes I'd think I'd seen him... A flash of a similar face or just that feeling of someone standing too close..." Kristina grips her cup, eyes clenched shut as if in pain. She pauses and waits for the flash of memories like a storm to pass. And he doesn't interrupt because he knows she needs to say it. That maybe, if only he'd written back or agreed to see her she might not have bottled it up so tightly.

She almost slipped and told him the worst part. That she hadn't been able to... _be_... with anyone... since it happened. Though it wasn't for lack of trying. But every time they- boys that slowly became mere guinea pigs to test her own endurance or perhaps recovery- tried to go even a smidgen past first base, a hand slipped under her shirt... a touch on her thigh... Her heart would seize up in her chest, the feeling of drowning coming on her in waves. Paralyzed with fear she'd have a panic attack then and there. After awhile she just gave up on that part of her life, she figured it was gone and good riddance.

That was until last night when she'd seen Ethan at the club. That raw desire that for so long had been dormant, or dead she'd thought, came dancing back to brilliant heady life.

It scared her, how much she wanted him. After being alone for so long, becoming comfortable with that small semblance of consistency in her life. It was terrifying somehow, that feeling of want... she refused to call it love. Even though she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she could trust him with her life and darkest secrets, there was an fear that had no real name or cause that came hand in hand with the desire.

Suddenly she realizes it's been a few minutes since either of them had spoken.

Kristina looks up to see him patiently waiting, gazing at her with his beautiful dark eyes. "S-sometimes... but not really anymore. It kind of feels like someone else's life now, or maybe a really disturbing movie that wasn't real..."

"And the nightmares?"

"No, not for a long time."

"You know..." He pauses, knowing a 'good job' or an 'I'm proud of you' or anything along those lines would have been the exact wrong thing to say. Somehow it would have cheapened the actual progress she had made. "I'm here for you now. Though something tells me you won't really be needing it," He grabs her phone, changing the number listed under his name to his new number. "For emergencies."

"Like panic attacks?" She says jokingly, albeit half-heartedly, as she moves to take the phone back.

He catches her hand in his firmly. "Or pure boredom. Need someone to help you finish a big meal... fix something... open a stubborn lid... tell a joke to... I'm here."

Kristina can't help but be very aware of the pressure of his hand around hers, the warmth and the gentle kind of strength there. "I'm not delicate anymore." She says, pulling her hand carefully out of his. "You're not obligated to protect me."

His face falls, and Ethan looks at her like she'd slapped him. "I didn't mean it like that..."

"Then what did you mean it like?" Kristina eyes him skeptically as he stays quiet. "Stop treating me like your charity case."

"I'm trying to give you what you wanted... to be your friend."

"Then be my friend." She tucks her hands under her legs like a child, but her gaze never leaving his face. "Not my keeper. Do nice things because you want to, not because you feel bad or that you owe me anything. And for God's sake... don't look at me like that..."

He laughs then. "Like what?"

"You know what." She says, trying not to smile. "I should go."

"What, why?" His genuine disappointment is almost enough to make her stay, if only a few minutes longer.

"I have to go get a dress." She pulls an invitation from her purse, thick dark paper with embossed script that was so ornate he could only barely make it out. "Nikolas is hosting a gala at Wyndemere, a kind of dinner for investors of the hospital. My mom puts a lot of money into, Tracy too. You should come."

Ethan nods with a smile. "Sure."


	13. Chapter 13

The first dress admittedly looked much better on the mannequin. It was hilarious that this dress, a yellow concoction that on her petite form resembled a cupcake intent on swallowing her alive, could make her so self-conscious as to be envious of a faceless twig of plastic that had no form at all. She heaved a sigh before making a face at the mirror. As gorgeous as the gown was on its own, on her it just wasn't right.

"That's... um... well, its a pretty color?" Sam's voice drifted from behind her.

"Don't worry I don't like it either." Kristina amends with a sort of conceding tone.

"Oh thank God." Sam says exasperatedly with a smile.

Kristina steps back into the the dressing stall, unzipping the dress as she goes. She smiles caustically at the elegantly scripted plaque on the door, 'stall 1'. It could hardly be called that since it was in fact nearly the full size of her dorm room back at yale. A stark white couch sat pressed against the sand colored wall, gold lined the fixtures that poured a slightly warm colored light that reflected off the cherry wood floors. This dressing room was nicer than most houses.

"Are you sure you don't want to come?" Kristina calls as she slings the dress over the arm of the couch carefully. Examining the other three left on the hooks lining the walls, she adds not for the first time "There was no RSVP required, you can still come."

"I told you Krissy, Jason and I just want some time alone. Besides, stressing over a dress and basically bullying him into a suit is not what I want to do on my one night off this month."

Kristina nods silently before snatching the silver one off the wall. It was gorgeous. Pale stones and strategically placed lace weighted the sheer fabric of the bodice. The skirt was full. Layered gray gossamer like fabric that felt lighter than air- a complete contrast from how it looked. Though it was her favorite by far, the moment she saw it it had taken her breath away, she felt shaky just holding it. It was clearly a woman's dress. The dress of a woman who was confident and graceful, a woman who was aiming to catch the gaze of a person in particular.

Those same dark eyes flooded her vision, the mere memory making her weak in the knees. She would be lying if she said this was just another dress for another party. It wasn't. Secretly she hoped Ethan would be there, that he might look at her and see the girl of his dreams. It scared her how much she wanted that. How much she wanted him to want her.

Because that feeling in her mind implied she was getting soft, her walls were crumbling. And if they crumbled anyone could get in. Anyone could just come in and hurt her. Though it felt wrong to think that Ethan would ever hurt her. _He had once_, a voice at the back of her mind reminded her, but they had both been young and very different then. And she knew unquestionably that he would never lay a hand on her like that again. _You said you wanted to be friends... just friends_, she reminds herself. That alone made all this internal struggling moot. Resigned she unzips the side of the dress carefully, stepping into the pool of shimmering fabric.

When she steps out of the room so that Sam can see, Kristina knows purely by the look on her sister's face that this dress was the one. "Wow." Is the only thing it seems Sam can say at first, and Kristina can't hide the beaming smile on her face.

The gown hugged Kristina's body perfectly. The lace and stones seemed to tattoo her skin against the sheer gray fabric that seemed only a vague attempt at modesty on the bodice. The skirt floated around her legs prettily, its layers giving the effect of being a multitude of shades of gray and silver. It was so beautiful Kristina thought distantly that she might wear it to every single ball from here until the day she died, and then promptly buried in it.

"Krissy, you look beautiful." Sam says admirably. "That's definitely the one... Especially if you wanted to impress someone."

Kristina's eyes snapped to her sister's reflection in the three way mirror. "What do you mean?"

"I saw Ethan at Kelly's this morning." She says simply, tucking a jet black tendril of hair behind her ear that signaled she was treading carefully.

"Whatever you're thinking... it's not. I'm not..." When Kristina's smile fades, Sam is quick to change the subject.

"I have the perfect shoes to go with that." Kristina nods silently, pretending to fuss with the folds of the dress. "Come with me to the apartment and I'll show you, Jason and Spinelli and are having chinese tonight." She adds the last bit, hoping that the junk food plus the opportunity to raid her closet will be enough to get Kristina's mind off things. Sam feels a light burst of victory in her chest when Kristina says a quiet 'sure' with ghost of a sincere smile.

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The shop girl had told her the dress would be promptly delivered the day after tomorrow. A rush order that took her influential parents into consideration, the gala was only three days away. Secretly Kristina missed the dress already, though the warm scent of steamed rice and tangy noodles filled her nose and mind as she and Sam clambered into the elevator.

She can't resist the laugh as Spinelli greats them warmly, "At last it is the Reluctant Mob-Princess and Fair Samantha bearing sustenance."

"Hey, Spinelli." She and Sam say almost simultaneously, though Sam is entirely unfazed.

"Where's Jason?" Sam asks tossing a bottle of orange soda to the younger man. Kristina can't help but notice his new sense of calm as he catches the bottle swiftly, or that his hair is combed and slicked back handsomely. And where once there had been stained and ripped khaki shorts and gamer tee the was now black slacks and dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up haphazardly. He looked very different from the boy who had practically become Jason and Sam's adopted child, he had become very handsome and more than anything comfortable.

"Stone Cold is delayed but will be along as soon as possible, and has requested that we go ahead and start without him." He takes the heavy bags from Kristina chivalrously with a smile before setting them on the coffee table. Kristina watched as he and Sam unpacked the white plastic bags, popping open the take-out boxes sharing pieces here and there. It was so familiar it seemed, like they were a real family.

She's shaken from her stupor when Jason comes barreling in behind her. He offers her a quick hug and hello before pressing a kiss to Sam's head, who in turn balanced a glazed piece of pork between two chopsticks and held them up for Jason to eat. He did and settled onto the couch beside Sam, Kristina settled onto the floor across from Spinelli. "Spinelli, did you print out the time codes for the Zacara's warehouses?" And just like that she watched as they settled into shop talk.

Kristina surprises even herself when she offers advice here and there, though her was limited and certainly didn't pertain to 'taking care of the problem'. It appeared someone was working both Corinthos property and Zacara, Jason wasn't as concerned as to who the double agent was but more what purpose Johnny or his father had this time to plant a snake into their organization. It doesn't take long for nearly all the food to disappear and the conversation to dwindle as they all become tired.

Sam slides off the couch and catches Kristina's hand, pulling her to stand. "Come on, its getting late and I still haven't showed you the shoes."

Kristina's first thought when the closet opens is that most of Sam's shoes are black and boots. She's about to voice this thought aloud when Sam pushed open a side compartment within the closet that is stacked with shoes boxes. She helps Sam pull them all out and line them on the large king size bed, nearly twenty pairs. They quickly narrow it down to three. One pair are simple silver satin pumps with red soles. Another are low strapped sandals, shiny silver string crisscrossing toward the ankle. The last pair is undoubtedly her favorite, pale lilac heels with ballet ribbons that twisted around the calf delicately.

"I think you should take these two." Sam says, pushing the box holding the satin pumps and the box with the lilac heels , sending the last pair back into the closet. "Take them both and test them out when you get the dress, just to be sure."

Kristina smiles, running her fingers over the ribbons of one pair. They were unmarred, soles barely scuffed... hardly worn. A penchant for shoes was something they all shared, and the thought that Sam owned so many beautiful selection and hardly ever got to wear them made her a little sad. "Can I stay here tonight?" She pauses to look at Sam. "I don't mind the couch its just that I promised to have lunch with Michael tomorrow and the house is so far. Plus mom's being all helicoptery-"

"It's no problem, Krissy." Sam interrupts, effectively easing Kristina's nerves.

"I lied." She blurts out. She watches as Sam sits silently beside her on the bed, silently waiting for Kristina to elaborate. "Earlier. About Ethan. I-I lied. I invited him this morning, to the gala. Not as a date, I told him I wanted to just be friends."

When Kristina remains silent Sam nudges a little. "And that's not what you really want?"

"Yes... no- I have no idea."

"Krissy, how do you feel about Ethan?"

"Before the whole, Kiefer thing... it was just a crush. But afterwards it got very real, and he kissed me. And he saved me, and then he went to prison and it just all fell apart with the distance." She neglected to mentioned that she'd written to him for months while he was in prison and each one had gone unanswered, or that she might still be in love with him.

"Are you still uncomfortable, or afraid?"

"I'm not afraid of Ethan just, of where it could go. What if he leaves again, or what if what we have turns out to be nothing at all. I just- uggh." She buries her face in her hands. "I don't know."

Sam gently strokes Kristina's hair back, soothing her. "I think... you've both changed. Maybe you should get to know each other again before you dive into anything head first, you know? As for being scared, which I can tell you are, Ethan- I misjudged him before. I think he's a genuinely good guy. His friendship is valuable, but all friendships are hard to salvage once you've tried to be more than that. All I 'm saying is be careful. You've got time Kristina, you both do. Don't rush into something you may not be ready for."

Kristina nods carefully, letting Sam's advice sink in. "Its just things are always different with him, at least in my head. When it comes to him its like the normal rules I have for myself don't apply. Not with him."

"Even if its hard Krissy, I think you should do everything you can to keep him in your life. Even if you feel like a relationship is something you feel you have to keep off the table. I think he'll understand."

Kristina nods knowing he would, or at least he would pretend to.

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The next few days pass in a kind of blur. She only steps into Kelley's once, while Ethan manned the kitchen in the back, and that's to have her lunch date with Michael. His addiction to their food was worse than his mother's and it makes her laugh when he orders a third plate of fries. Michael lets Kristina dominate the conversation, asking how things were and about her studies in finite detail. Only throwing bits in here and there how he couldn't do it like here. How school just wasn't for him.

She wants to encourage him to just try, but she knows better than to push with Michael. And besides, she'd heard through the grapevine, or more like Molly, that he'd been trying to get into their dad's business again and had partially succeeded. Molly had clarified that though he was working for their dad he had a legitimate job in the coffee business not the mob business. Sonny was still refusing to let Michael in there, and from what she'd heard Jason was equally if not more adamant that that be as far as Michael got.

Kristina plays along as if she doesn't know anything and accepts that whatever Michael wants to do is his business. It turns out to be a very nice lunch, but it reminds her of how much she's missed since she was back last. There's the lightest stubble shadowing his chin like grains of sand. His stance is different, more weighted or perhaps tired. It causes her to bring her hand to his cheeks, feeling the skin there that is no longer baby soft and curved but angular and rough. She tells him that she's missed him, and that he'll never know how much.

They end up spending the whole day together, it keeps her mind off of Ethan while allowing her to catch up with her favorite brother. It was strange, how much she never realized how much she missed home until she'd come back. Until she saw the minute changes in the people and places she'd left behind, signs that life had gone along just fine without her.

She wondered distantly as Michael drives her back to her mother's house, just how much Ethan had changed. There had been something between them before he'd been sentenced, he'd admitted it. But then he'd never written back. Were those fledgling feelings still there? Or were they gone entirely? Had it all been merely a product of circumstance? A weird twist on stockholm syndrome where a hero falls in love with the damsel and nothing more. It turns her stomach to put such a romanticized take on what actually happened. She was rapped, and Ethan had saved her. In every way that a person could be saved. But then he'd let her go...

Kristina didn't know if she could let him in again like before, it was too much of a risk. But there was that small part of her deep down that knew, if Ethan said he wanted her too- she would give in.


	14. Chapter 14

He's early. Ethan had forgotten the etiquette of the somewhat elite of Port Charles, only the stuffy old people with the old money and the hosts arrive on time. Everyone else was within the hour fashionably late. He could only attribute it to his eagerness. It was strange, being around her again. It was nothing like before. Before she had been a blinding kind of girl in her happiness around him, a first crush. Then he'd been cruel, pushing her away. The memory twisted fresh in his stomach even now. After all that she'd been girl buried under the weight of what that… monster had done to her. She'd been detached, that blinding glittering light tempered to an ember of a dying fire. He'd loved her all the same.

Now, he wasn't sure. She seemed happy but maybe still looking for something. Still waiting for someone, maybe him. Ethan shakes his head, black hair curling against his temples. He'd been gone for years, he knew he had no right to really hope or think he still knew her enough to tell how she showed what she was feeling.

But at the diner, he remembered it so clearly. She had blushed when she told him not to look at her like that. He'd played the fool but he knew what she meant, he'd been out of practice at keeping himself in check where she was concerned. Ethan wouldn't have been surprised is every time she saw him looking at her he was sporting a dropped jaw and wide cartoon eyes.

And then, as if the universe were playing the world to his very thoughts, she appeared in the grandiose carved doorway. It wasn't like in the movies where every eye in the room turned to her in envy. A spotlight did not shower her from above. And her eyes were not fixed on him as if he were the only she could see.

But still, Ethan couldn't look away. Everything fell away his mind and he could only see her, in a dress that made him think to himself that she was too good for anything in this world. Including him. She was beautiful, but then again the other day she'd merely worn a plain t-shirt and jeans and still she had managed to take his breath away. He's too nervous and lost in his own thoughts to go up and say hello first, he might have blurted out a marriage proposal for all he knew, but it doesn't matter.

As if feeling his eyes on her she finds him and comes to him almost immediately, her gown twinkling with her every move. "Ethan, you look so handsome." She says with ease and a soft smile.

"You look…" He begins, unable to find the right word.

"Nice?" she offers hopefully after an awkward silence.

"Like stars." He says without thinking. And even when she seems taken aback he doesn't regret it, she needed to be told how beautiful she was more often.

"I… um… thank you." She stumbles, unable to fight the blush the floods her cheeks. The band begins melds nearly seamlessly into another song. It's a waltz, she knows, and so is surprised when Ethan offers her his hand. Kristina looks up at him for moment, lost in his dark eyes and dark hair. In the strong line of his jaw and the mischievous charm that lingers in every angle of him except- ironically- in an actual smile. It's just that characteristic tilt of his mouth that beckons her forward, has her placing her hand in his as if it belonged there.

She can't suppress the laugh that seems to tickle her stomach as he spins her expertly across the ballroom, and she doesn't fail to notice that now he's smiling too. She wonders if she's ever seen him smile like that- genuine and almost entirely unburdened. Yes, and it flashes before her minds eyes with startling clarity. The day he'd spent at Kelly's teaching her poker as she had shamelessly flirted with him.

"Where did you learn to dance so well?" She asks, as he keeps up almost expertly with the quicker paces.

"Big prison guard lady named, Hilde." He jokes.

Kristina laughs nervously, not sure if she likes him making light of his imprisonment. She decides ultimately not to say anything, sensing it was not only well intentioned but also probably true.

"I'm glad you came back to Port Charles." She says when the song melds into a slower more contemporary tune, Ethan's grip still firmly in place. She doesn't know if it's because he still wants to dance with her or if he had simply missed the change in songs.

"Where else would I go?"

"I don't know, your father is kind of famous around here for that sort of thing."

She can feel his laugh reverberate through her skin and she tries to ignore the way it makes her heart race. Even more so as his hands slide from stiff position of a waltz to encircle her waist. "If we were all like our fathers…" His large hand moves to settle low on her back, the heat of his skin seeming to burn through the thin fabric of her gown. "I might be tempted to ask you to show me where exactly on your person you're hiding your gun."

She doesn't mean to blush, again, or even smile a bit- but she does anyway in a trend of behavior she had sought to avoid in his presence. Normally jokes about Sonny's profession made her uncomfortable and were almost never well received. Though, in the past few months she'd grown to accept that her father was who he was and if he wouldn't change for her or her siblings… it simply wasn't going to happen. Coming from Ethan though, it hadn't sparked even the slightest hint of resentment. Ethan knew better than most what her father could do, he'd seen it in other much less forgiving men who ran an illegal business. In a side thought, she wondered, how many of them had daughters and how many of those daughters had managed to grow unscathed…

"I've lost you again." He says softly, and she shakes her head.

"I-uh… I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize." He pulls her closer, speaking in a low sort of voice. "You wouldn't be you if you didn't disappear into your own mind every now and then."

"Is that a good thing?" She asks skeptically, attempting to tease.

"It's a wonderful thing." He was doing it again. Taking her breath away, she wondered sometimes in his constant observance if he noticed that as well. "Kris, all joking and charity casing aside, I hope you know you can still come to me." When she turns away like she's preparing herself to argue he gently presses a warm hand to her cheek, turning eyes back to him in unblinking awareness. "I want you to come to me."

She isn't sure why she blushes so fiercely, or maybe she is and she just can't admit it to herself. Nothing had changed. She was as in love with him as she'd ever been. And she still wasn't sure of him, the difference between what he said and what he meant.

"Kiss me." She says without thinking, in an almost daring tone, suddenly more tired than anything. Tired of not being where she wanted to be. Tired of these games and of keeping herself from what she wanted because she was afraid. She knew now that if he walked away again she would be devastated, and she might hate him. But wouldn't be forever, she knew she had time. All the time in the world to get past it if this was mistake.

She's lost in his dark eyes and they've stopped moving. He's frozen almost solid, his gaze flickering across her face as if trying to find something there. She frowns, again daring him "Kiss me."

Slowly but surely Ethan leans down to her and for a moment she thinks he's going to kiss her cheek. It surprises her when his mouth is on hers, the salted taste of his lips. Though its pure shock when that small touch seems to light her skin on fire, the small touch sending her heart racing so that she already feels out of breath. Her mouth yields under his and she can feel his tongue against her own and shivers run down her spine and her hands clutch into fists at the sleeves of his coat.

Kristina isn't aware of anything but him. It's never been like this for her with anyone else and secretly she doesn't want to stop. She can feel her body yearning for him, begging to be closer. Though Ethan seemed to be more aware of their surroundings than she was because he is the first to pull away. His breathing is as labored as her own and that knowledge sends another equally thrilling flare of electricity through her. He wanted her too…


End file.
